#I honestly wished I could have written more about her but I wanted to keep the narrowed scope that 'three portraits' implies

[bumblingbabooshka]

Prose from my story 'Three Portraits' which you can read over on my Patreon [the $5 tier] - Though the story is a doomed romance between Strelkulkaulk and Grous, Strel's wife Lis is someone he cares for deeply.

[unhingedgirlythings]

FUCK IT

SUMMERY : Reader gets her date interrupted when Hotch calls up asking for her to get to the BAU. Reader rushes over still dressed up and a certain dr can’t keep her eyes off her teehee.

Tags:fem reader , a huge amount of awkwardness, reader is over her love life

A/N: I WANTED AWKWARD SPENCER REID, bare with me tho cuz I haven’t written a fanfic since I was 13 and it was horrible so please be kind and let me know your thoughts :))) enjoyyy.

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You were used to your phone ringing at the WORST possible times, I mean with your job that was something you just had to prepare yourself for. Serial killers don’t take a break just so you can have a girls night out or take a nice relaxing bath after a long day. Although never in your life did you imagine the wave of relief that would wash over you as the all too familiar ringtone blared from your phone. Normally you would groan and feel your body grow more exhausted whilst hesitantly picking up the phone, but not tonight. Nope. Fortunately for hotch, you couldn’t have answered the phone faster. “what’s up” low and behold hotch was on the other end requesting your presence ASAP!

You tried to hide your glee as you glanced over at the douche-ist blind date that the great quote on quote “matchmaker” of the century Garcia, had raved on about the week before. To be fair the date didn’t start off bad, it was actually the most decent one you’ve had yet. Honestly you were ready to finally praise Penelope for actually finding you a decent man to take your mind off the unrequited school girl crush that you had on a certain “kid” genius. somehow you escaped the dude who clearly was stuck in some frat boy mindset, well not without some snarky comment made towards you which you shut down a little harsher then needed but seriously you couldn’t hold back anymore, you had no idea what possessed Penelope into thinking you would EVER consider going home with the king of fucking douchebags (most likely the biceps and tight clothing that the man sported). Nevertheless here you were speeding down the freeway, thinking way too hard about your love life completely blanking and forgetting to drop by your apartment to quickly change into something more work appropriate.

Before you knew it you’ve parked your car, walking into the cold air. A shiver runs down your body and the shock hits you when you realize. Here you are in a little skimpy black dress that clings to your curves in “just the right way” according to Penelope before shoving you out into your car heading to that horrible excuse of a date, “ahh shit. Fucken seriously! Of course this is just my luck … I mean at least I look good” groaning and mumbling to yourself, you make your way into the building. You knew Hotch would be understanding, I mean you never know when you’re gonna be called in and it sounded urgent so yeah, sometimes you and your coworkers walk in with inappropriate work wear. You will never forget the time he called everyone in at god knows what time, Spencer had walked into the room with his pjs sporting a fluffy dress robe, you seriously thought someone was going to have to perform cpr on you that night.

Walking into the building in heels was definitely a pain in your ass, but you managed as you pushed the briefing room door open. A low wolf whistle from Derek Morgan was the last thing you needed right now “damn sweetheart, who knew you could clean up so nicely“ As you make your way into the room, you playfully roll your eyes at him.“haha very funny” you cringed as everyone’s attention was now drawn to you. while taking a seat next to JJ, wishing to be wearing literally anything else “Sorry Hotch, i came straight from..” you hesitate for a second, glancing around before continuing “A date, but this sounded important so I didn’t have time to change”The stoned faced man simply nods at you “It’s fine. You're here, right now we have a lot to cover” He starts debriefing the team, leaving no detail out of the case, no matter how brutal, you tried your hardest to give him your unwavering attention, but you could feel someone’s eyes on you. And out of the corner of your eye see him. Spencer.

His stare was hot and intense, and fuck was it making you become a flustered mess. You glanced at him from your peripheral trying your best to be subtle about it, it was getting harder and harder to focus on Hotch and the case, not Reid. But when his puppy dog eyes drifted up, down and all over your body, your body involuntarily reacted, slightly squirming in your seat. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes turn and lock onto his gorgeous brown ones, a smirk graces your lips as he finally notices your eyes now on him. Looking like a kid being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he turns pink from the embarrassment and shame of being caught, and god did that make your head spin. Now it was his turn to awkwardly squirm in his seat while staring at Hotch with all his attention. You giggle under your breath at his fumbling awkwardness. Before you know it everyone around you starts to pack up their things and stand up, leaving you confused. Of course you spent the whole debriefing paying so little attention to the case and more on Spencer.

Sighing, you pull the hem of your dress down as you stand trying to save yourself from even more embarrassment. “soooo how did it go? Was he as yummy as you’d hoped?” Garcia wraps her arms around yours as you try not to stumble down the stairs towards your desk “you, my love are officially banned from meddling in my love life” you could already hear the trail of complaints bouncing around in her head as you plopped down onto your desk chair, reaching for the new case folder hoping to catch yourself up before take off in the morning “aww come on I for sure thought you’d be jumping his bones, all those rippling muscles, who In Their right mind could resist” the thought of the man you had seen a few hours prior put a foul taste in your mouth, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust “he was a complete dick, he legit referred to himself as an “alpha male” AN ALPHA ,Only thing I wanted to jump , was off a building at that point” a defeated look from her was all the conformation you needed, no longer were you going on blind dates, and your love life was back to being non existent and sad “sorry Pen I tried, I really really tried, you just have horrific taste in men like my god do we need to get you some help. These guys are basically human garbage” whilst looking up your eyes naturally drift and settle on Spencers desk frowning as you watch him, his heads buried in the case file whilst obsessively jotting down notes like some multitasking god, your heart couldn’t help but pine after his more, the looks you shared moments before didn’t help your case either. Resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you drag your eyes away trying to spare yourself from going into one of your Spencer Reid spirals. You look up at Penelope already disliking the pitiful look she was giving you “are you sure your ready to give up?, I mean I know this cute guy who would be super into you, he's just your type “the new voice startled you, turning in your seat you’re met with Emily smirking down at you whilst leaning against your desk inserting herself into the conversation with JJ beside her “wow ok fun, are we all just gonna just dive head first into my personal life?, don’t we have a case to work on?” trying to deter the subject of the conversation off of you was a bust, as the women you call friends gleam down at you with a shared look “yeah no this is too entertaining to sit out on.” you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now, letting out a groan you leaned back in your chair covering your face in hopes of hiding the redness in your cheeks “sweetheart, what you need is a good ol one night stand, get a certain pretty boy out of your system” if you weren’t already melting into a puddle of embarrassment, you definitely were now “Morgan shut up please for the love of everything holy”

you could only pray Spencer wasn’t paying attention to the little group that was forming at your desk, maybe he was being good and reading the case file like the rest of them should be doing but of course luck wasn’t in your favor tonight “what are we talking about?” Before you could shut the whole conversation down Morgan happily answered Spencer “oh, we were just discussing Y/L/N’s love life. I think she needs a good root, what do you think?” that stupid smirk Morgan was happily wearing was enough to make your blood boil, now you truly wished to disappear “ok ok that’s enough” you shoot up from your seat avoiding any eye contact with Spencer not wanting to see his reaction to your humiliating red face “conversation over, my love life is going back to being non existent, thank you for your concern but it’s over, officially dead so no more talking about it.” you snatch the file off your desk ready to get the hell out of whatever situation you found yourself in “i'm going home to at least get some sleep before we leave tomorrow or I’ll be a zombie all day” with that you hastily made your way out of the building and into the cool night air once again.

wrapping your arms around yourself in hopes to provide some warmth, you slowly make your way to the car park. Before you could make it to your car you could hear foot steps getting closer and closer until they were right behind you, stopping along with yours once you had reached front of your car. Quickly spinning around you slam them onto the car's hood, arm in your hand, face down and pinned.

“Ow ow ow ow Ow!” Shit. It was Spencer. The man you’ve been daydreaming about and here you were pinning him to the hood of your car. “oh shit sorry, my god, don’t walk up on me like that holy shit Spence you scared me” you pull away off him whilst letting go of his arm and backing away a little. Spencer lets out a hiss of pain as he pushes himself off the hood, rubbing his arm to try and relieve the pain “sorry I was just trying to make sure you got to your car safely. It’s late a-and” he looks at your dress whilst clearing his throat looking away awkwardly “are you ok? you seemed upset in there” he looks back at you whilst giving you a smile that made you wanna pass away on the spot “yeah I’m ok, just having your dating life put on full blast in front of the team like that can be a tad embarrassing” silence was the only response you were met with, you glance up at Spencer trying to think of something, anything to say in this moment “you look really nice by the way, it’s unfortunate your date turned out that way.” His eyes meet yours, your breath gets caught in your throat as heat creeps up your neck to your face “t-thanks” tugging on the hem of your dress you smile sheepishly “not the most comfortable outfit, honestly wish Pen let me wear my sweater but you know”

“Penelope” you both say, you giggle as Spencer chuckles. “Oh by the way, I thought you may want these, may help a little tomorrow” he hands you the notes he took from the briefing, Your fingertips brush against his, the feeling of warmth from his hands sends a shiver down your spine. “Thanks Spence. I appreciate it” you stand there longer than needed before you start to turn away from him. “You know, that even though there aren't any hard statistics, it’s roughly estimated that every 1 in 3 or 4 blind dates actually end up as a success” he rambles on, looking back at him you try to pay attention but you can’t stop your eyes from sifting down towards his lips “so there is a chance” his voice fades away as his words become background noise and your thoughts become louder and louder, all you could think about was him, the feeling of wanting only grew stronger with each passing minute. It didn’t help that his lips were tempting you, calling you in. you couldn’t hold yourself back much longer, will power growing weaker and weaker “fuck it” your body moves before commen sense had its time to put a stop to whatever ridiculous thoughts you had muster up, suddenly your lips press onto his without thinking it through. It was short and one sided yet sweet, the faint taste of coffee and sugar overwhelmed your senses

The sudden realization hits you hard as you push yourself off Reid, the feelings of regret and fear settles itself in your stomach making you feel sick “Sorry I wasn’t thinking, shit sorry, forget that happened ok” you back away keeping your eyes glued to the ground in fear that you’ll look up and only see rejection written on his face. What in the hell possessed you to do that?, why the fuck did you do that, the only reason you kept your feelings shoved down was to protect your friendship with Spencer, nothing meant more to you then the bond you both shared and now you’ve ruined it and for what? A stupid kiss? “wait, uh No no it was just unexpected I didn’t hate it actually quite the opposite” your head snaps back up at a red faced flustered Spencer Reid “don't apologize“ his warm hands warp around your cold ones as he steps closer to you once again “did you um maybe want to try that again? Only if you want to though I don’t want you to regret anything” you giggle as he starts to nervously stumble over his words, this time more confident in your actions your lips find his for the second time tonight.

The taste of coffee meets your lips again as your body relaxes into the kiss, which is very reciprocated this time. The warmth radiating from Spencer chases the cold night air away. As your bodies shuffle closer together. you both hesitantly pull away from each, you wanted to stay here in this moment for as long as possible but of course your bed was calling your name along with the early flight departure. “I should go” you really didn’t want to “I know“ his hands stayed on your waist for a moment before slipping away “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow” the sweet look on his face drove you crazy, the urge to say fuck it and stay with him for the remainder of the night was overpowered by the sleepless night before, you settle for placing a goodnight kiss on his cheek instead “night Spence” winking you open your car door and make your way in, you turn the car on and roll the window down to call out to him as he backs away with a smug smirk on his face “sweet dreams pretty boy” with that you drive away replaying the events of tonight in your mind, god you couldn’t wait to get the case over with so you could finally have a date that wasn’t going to end in ruins, especially with the man you’ve been crushing on since your first day, yeah no you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight now.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Objects in Motion

Part 4!

Alpha! Billy Russo x Omega! Reader

No warnings this is wholesome lmaoooooooo

His scent lingers on you when you walk into work on Monday. Despite how hard you'd tried to wash it off, it clings to your skin, seemingly unwilling to let you go.

Secretly, that delights you, emphasizes the strength of whatever there was between the two of you. It’s equal parts giddy, and terrifying.

That an alpha like him- that he could be interested in you, you have to resist a groan of delight as you wait for the elevator to get to your floor.

The doors slide open and you let out a long sigh, making your way slowly to your desk, smiling and forcing yourself to greet your coworkers.

You were already exhausted by the idea of working, wishing you were still in bed, hidden under piles of blankets to shield you from the world. Maybe a certain alpha would be willing to join you.

Or maybe… maybe you were better off never thinking about him again. 

Honestly, you'd probably be doing him a favour, your situations couldn't be more opposite, you couldn't imagine him ever seeing where you lived, it might hurt you to see the pity written across his face.

Worse, you'd just be a burden to him, he'd probably feel obligated to take care of you, and if things didn't work out- you shudder- you didn't even want to think about it.

But God, you were so attracted to him that it hurt. You couldn't stop thinking about him, and the ways he would touch you, the ways he might feel, the size of him-

You blink in surprise, feeling a small flush of pheromones around you. Damn, work was the worst place for this.

At the same time, you catch sight of Renée, the only other omega in the department, making her way toward you, her desk situated nearby.

She glances at you, gives you a subtle nod while dropping her stuff, before pausing, and turning to you.

“You smell like an Alpha.” She says, no question in her tone.

Renée was the type of person to speak somewhat kindly to your face, the perfect facade of caring, but you knew people, and you knew that she would find a way to work this interaction into office gossip.

“I made a friend.” You answer inexplicably, trying to keep a poker face, knowing that shyness would do you no favours here.

She raises her eyebrows, turns away, you knew she was thinking one of two things, wondering how you managed to befriend an alpha before her, or that someone you called a ‘friend’ would let you scent them. Basically, that you were a slut and she was better than you.

“Well, I hope you have fun.” She says, smiling over at you sweetly. 

“Thanks.” You mutter politely, tugging your headset on, and getting ready to start your day.

Your phone pings in the middle of the morning peak hours, and you pause speaking to glance down at it, seeing yet another message from the alpha himself.

He’d been sending texts all weekend, texts that you had been ignoring, though you weren’t exactly sure why.

You shake your head, apologising for your pause, before resuming your work.

When the call ends, you take a bathroom break, pulling down your notification bar to see what he’s said.

You catch sight of all the other messages before, sighing as guilt fills you.

I hoped you had a nice time, sweetheart, I’d like to see you again.

Omega?

Please don’t feel shy about the car, I wanted it too.

Are you ignoring me?

Good morning, sweetheart. Let’s have dinner.

Are you really going to make me beg?

It was almost hard to breathe, the way he seemed so desperate for you. You could almost feel his desire through the phone, like an ache in your chest, sticking like tar to the back of your throat.

Denying him might be the hardest thing you've ever had to do, but it was for the best, you decide as you lock your phone. You would not be played for a fool ever again.

He calls during your lunch break, you swallow and flip your phone over, muting the call while you eat your small packed lunch.

Why wasn't he getting the message? Would it really be that hard to free yourself of him?

You don't get any more messages or calls after that, and you assume he gives up when you hear nothing else from him for the rest of the day.

Your transit home is bitter, the thought that you'd successfully chased an alpha away hurts, like you knew it would.

He might have been amazing, he might have been warm. You tip your head back on the bus, taking in a deep breath and exhaling agony.

Worse, his scent fades even more the next day, and where you'd been trying to scrub it from you over the weekend, you cling to it now, wishing it would stay just a few days more.

You stop, surprised, when you see a single sunflower sitting on your work desk in the morning. 

It's in a little transparent vase, and your heart gives a violent uptick as you approach, reaching for the little card you see pressed under the vase, raising it to your nose, taking a deep breath.

Your eyes roll back in your head at the pure scent of him. He'd probably rubbed the harsh little card against his scent gland, trying to get your attention by any means necessary. 

You go so weak in the knees that you're forced to brace a hand against your desk to support you.

You draw back, flipping the card open, finding one word written neatly in his hand.

Please

You bite down in the corner of your lip, smiling. Guess you hadn't chased him away after all.

Was this good? Was this bad? You didn't know, all you could feel is your chest fluttering at the idea that you'd pushed this Alpha away as hard as you could and he was still here, trying to calmly approach, not overwhelming you by physically getting into your space, but letting his actions speak for him, reminding you that he was still here.

Could you hope that his feelings were real? That he really cared about you, where other Alphas had only themselves in mind?

“From your friend?” Renee's voice breaks into your head.

You turn, dropping your hand as if you've been caught.

“Yeah.” You breathe out, turning to busy yourself with work, feeling her eyes glued to the back of your head.

When you finally settle in, staring at the flower, you frown, remembering the way the second alpha you'd been with had used your own desires against you. He'd twisted your need to be cared for, making it seem like your only purpose was to serve him. Adam had left you aching for crumbs and hating yourself for it.

You could almost cry from the memory, that alphas could be so cruel, so manipulative, that it was always a game and you needed to keep your cards close to your chest.

Why, would William be any different?

Why were you wishing with everything you had, that he was?

You bring the card up to your nose, breathing in his scent, hoping.

.

You’re staring at his unopened messages yet again, trying to figure out what to say to him when the phone on your desk rings.

You straighten, grabbing your headset, tugging it on before answering, giving your quick, jovial greeting.

There’s a long pause, that alerts you to the fact that this call might not be totally normal.

“Omega.” The voice finally says, and your mouth drops open in surprise.

“William?” You ask, almost choking on your words, “You- these calls are recorded for quality purposes.” 

“You’ve been ignoring me. This was the only way I could think of to hear your voice.”

Jesus Christ, you could feel your heart palpitating in your chest.

“We shouldn’t be talking on this line.” You respond shakily.

“Did I do something wrong? Tell me what I did sweetheart, so I can fix it.”

Ohmygod, you clear your throat, adjusting yourself in your seat with the way his voice is affecting you.

“William-”

“-I can’t stop thinking about you. I need to see you again, even if it’s for you to tell me you want me to leave you alone. I’ll beg if I have to.”

You blink, mouth parting, unable to speak.

“We shouldn’t.” You try.

“Please.” is his low, grovelling response.

Your breath hitches as he continues on repeat, slow, drawing out each word with his voice echoing through your headset, sending shivers over your spine.

“Please, please, please, please, please-”

“Okay.” You stumble out, “Alright.”

You hear him sigh a breath of relief.

“Let’s have dinner tonight. My treat.”

“I don’t-” You start before cutting off, cheeks aflame with embarrassment, “-I have nothing to wear.”

“Don’t fret little one, I’ll pick you up after work. I’ll take care of everything, you just have to withstand my company for one night, and if you really want me to, I’ll leave you alone after.”

“I’m holding you to that, alpha.” You answer, whispering it so that Renée doesn’t overhear you.

He hums over the line, a little laugh after a few moments.

“Thank you, omega, see you later.”

You mumble your goodbye, ending the call on your side.

It warms your core for minutes after, unbelievably turned on by him, unable to deny the way you were feeling, you bring the card up to your nose once more, breathing him in.

.

He sends you a quick message a few minutes before your work day ends to tell you that he’s waiting in the lobby for you.

You feel a nervous twist in your stomach as you close your files, and pack up your things, glancing over to see that Renee hadn’t come back from her trip to the bathroom just yet, normally bidding her goodbye before you leave.

You wonder if you should bring the sunflower with you, but you figure it would be fine here and you can just take it home tomorrow. On the other hand, seeing it here really did make the day more bearable. 

You decide to think about it later, heading for the elevator, your bag in hand.

You catch his scent as the doors slide open, smiling wistfully as bergamot surrounds you, tugging you to him.

You round the corner and stop short in shock.

You'd never thought of Renée as a friend in any means, but you'd never seen her as any type of adversary until this very moment, as you watch her smile up at William, her neck tilted to the side slightly in offering.

It's a very bold move, to openly present your scent gland to a possible stranger, and you glance up at his face, noting his expression.

His eyebrows are pinched, mouth turned down into a frown, confusion maybe, perhaps a hint of distaste.

You didn't know you were good at reading lips until this moment as well, but you know without a doubt that he says the words ‘I'm sorry, I'm not interested.’ despite how far away you are.

 Then, he turns, eyes meeting yours as if he knew exactly where you were.

He mutters something you think is ‘excuse me,’ before he begins walking in your direction.

In a well pressed white shirt, tucked into charcoal grey pants, he approaches you with even strides, never breaking eye contact, making you feel the intensity of him as he draws near.

You feel your spine stiffen, head angling upward the closer he gets, until he's standing before you, drinking you in.

“Hello, sweetheart, thank you for giving me another chance to see you.”

You gulp.

“D- don't make me regret it.” You stutter out, trying to stand your ground on your boundaries.

“Never.” He promises, extending his elbow out for you to take. You eagerly oblige, reaching up to grip his bicep securely, maybe a little bit more than necessary.

You keep your head down, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone on your way out.

He's not driving this time, guiding you toward a very big SUV, with blackout windows and a cozy leather interior.

There’s so much room, enough for him to extend his legs when he slides in beside you, closing the door and tapping twice on the partition separating the two of you from the driver.

“Wow,” you murmur, looking around, even noticing a small fridge in the space across from you, “This- is this yours?”

He hums.

“Technically, they belong to the company, but I get to use it when I need to.”

You blink, realising that he was trying to be humble about it.

Smiling, you turn to look at him, eyes widening when you realise how close he’d gotten to you when you were distracted.

“You smell like me, omega.” He whispers into the space between you, his dark eyes searching yours, leaning in, he presses his nose to your hair.

You hear the soft inhale, your body stiffening, trying to resist your own instinct to present your scent gland to him. His own scent fills the space around you, and his shaky exhale brushes your ear as he leans away.

“I won’t lie and say I’m not pleased by it. You have power over me, sweetheart, I hope you know that.”

Your breaths sharpen, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you bite down harshly trying to recenter your thoughts.

How could he say something like that so easily? As if it were in his nature to be so… devoted.

His gaze dips to your mouth, lingering there for a long moment before he smiles softly.

“How was work today?” He inquires, leaning back further, taking a few deep breaths, in what you can only assume is an attempt to calm himself.

It was great, you want to say, but the words won't come out with the way he's looking at you, as if you're his next meal, or his deity.

You can't decide.

“Omega?”

“Good.” You blurt, losing control of your thinking, did you even really have a good day? You don't have the brain power to remember.

You turn your head away, blinking, trying to… think. It was hard to focus on anything other than him, the way he was filling your head with primal static, the urge to obey, to succumb washing over you.

“I’m sorry,” You finally say, dropping your head into your hands, “being around you isn’t easy. It’s hard to control myself.”

You feel pressure in your throat, tears springing to your eyes, a dam on the brink of bursting.

His hand presses securely between your shoulder blades.

“Breathe,” He says calmly, you turn your head to find warm, encouraging eyes.

Oh, you think to yourself as you follow his instruction, breathing in softly, feeling those primal desires soften under the guidance of the very man causing them.

“There you go,” His voice makes your stomach flutter, “There’s nothing to be sorry about, little one.”

There he goes again, making you want him.

What would it cost, to reach up and kiss him? To press your fingers into his jaw while your mouths meet, to feel him like that, to exist with him in that way?

You let out a soft sigh, relaxing, living in that thought for a few moments.

When he’s sure you’re calm enough, he smiles.

“Now, let’s start over- was your day actually good?”

You feel amusement rise inside of you.

“Yeah,” you utter softly, “No one yelled at me, so I call it a win.”

He blinks, his expression turning sorrowful.

“People often yell at you?”

You nod.

“Customer service… is an excuse for small people to make someone else feel small.”

Something changes in his eyes, sorrow moulting into something else- his jaw tightening.

“I don't like the sound of that.” He admits.

You offer him a wry smile.

“That's just how things are, I guess. This is what I have to work with.” You stop yourself from complaining more, worried that it might upset him to hear the way people treated you, to hear them make derogatory comments, to question your intellect as if you'd personally inconvenienced them.

His hand moves from your shoulder, tracing its way up to the back of your neck, and then to the side, his thumb in perfect reach of your scent gland and your brain goes hazy at the thought.

Instead of your gland, his thumb reaches up to stroke the edge of your jaw calmly.

“What happens if someone is too aggressive? What's the protocol? Do you transfer them to a manager?”

You gulp, remembering one time that happened, you'd gotten reprimanded after.

“Yeah that's the protocol, but I think it's best if I solve the problem myself, and get approvals on my own. It's not usually good to waste my supervisor's time.”

His thumb gently stroking your cheek lulls you, fits you into a space where you feel safe to talk about these things.

“Does anyone at your job yell at you?”

“Not… yell,” you hesitate for a moment, enjoying his caress, “they're just… warnings. I'm- I try to do my best to avoid that.” You huff out a breath, “I guess I got yelled at once, when I first started, but not after that.”

You gulp, glancing at him, the soft fire in his eyes as he studies you, his thumb dipping, circling the spot right above your gland.

Your lips part, your mind begging you to reach out to him.

The car slows to a stop.

You take a deep breath, eyes widening when you scent the mixture of pheromones in the air, you might as well be begging him on your knees with how potent it was. It sort of surprised you that he was able to resist it.

You want to say something to him, anything to fill the silence that swarms in as your eyes meet his, but your brain is blissfully blank, not a single cohesive thought other than how badly you wanted him.

He gives you a patient smile.

“We’re here.” He says.

“Where?” You ask softly.

“Hotel,” He answers softly, “I rented a room so you can get dressed and meet me in the restaurant for dinner.”

Renting a room? On a second date?

“Oh…” You mumble, trying to figure out if you needed to clarify your boundaries for him again.

You don’t get the chance, the door opens and you have to busy yourself with stepping out instead of addressing your concerns.

He extends his hand for you to take, and you do so eagerly, aching even more when you feel his large hand interlocked with yours.

It’s almost like you’re his omega, walking beside him as he confidently guides you into the hotel, nodding at reception and heading straight to the elevators.

The doors close and you can feel your body throbbing. Was he expecting more from you than you were ready for?

“William?”

“Yes, Omega?”

You blink, looking up at him, unable to voice the words, the topic of conversation is too sensitive, the words can barely leave your mouth. Your mind races to find something else to ask.

“Do you- um- live around here?”

He tilts his head for a moment, maybe sensing your hesitation.

“Not really, I live close to where I work, home to office you know?”

You nod, smiling, before facing forward once more, a slither of discomfort in your spine.

You can feel his eyes on you, no doubt trying to read you while you debate whether this was a good idea or not.

When the doors slide open, he begins speaking again.

“I hired a stylist, to help, if that’s okay, I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” He guides you down a well lit hallway, and stops at a door before turning to face you.

“Is this okay? Or is it too much?” He questions softly, and you dip your head, unable to meet his eyes.

“It’s a bit much.” You mumble, looking down at your shoes.

He bends his body, smiling as he manages to fit his head into your line of sight, it pulls a small smile from you too.

“If you could bear with me, omega.” He whispers so softly that the words kick off a yearning need in your head, “I have a surprise that will hopefully make up for it.” 

You tilt your head up, and he moves, straightening his body to remain in your line of sight.

“Okay.” You surrender, trying to allow yourself to be swept up by him, even temporarily.

He gives you a pleased smile, hindbrain preening in response that you’ve made alpha happy. He turns, knocking on the door.

After a few moments, an omega with a kind smile opens the door. He introduces her as Maria, and you spare him one more glance before you step into the room, nodding when he says he’ll see you on the roof in two hours.

.

The elevator plays soft music as you travel upward, the sound of your own breathing heavy in your ear.

You weren't sure you'd picked the right dress, a little self conscious that you'd chosen something that might be too juvenile.

The strawberry dress had been too beautiful, your eyes had been drawn to it the moment you saw it, and no matter how hard you tried to convince Maria that it was a bad idea, she'd insisted that you picked the dress you most loved. 

You really did like it, the tulle and the colour, and the cut of the dress going so low that you'd skipped your bra and used boob tape to hold your cleavage in place.

You weren't sure how painful removal would be, Maria had suggested baby oil, you just hope you had some at home.

She'd fixed your hair into soft curls,  and she was really nice about what you liked and didn't, and by the end of it, she felt more like a friend helping you than a stylist being paid to do so.

The elevator doors open, and you cautiously step out. You take a deep breath through your nose, catching the faded scent of him, and following it.

Down a short hallway, and into a large open restaurant space. It was quiet, void of anyone, tables and booths empty.

You frown a little, confused as to why a restaurant this opulent would be closed. Sure, it was still daylight out on a weekday, but it didn't make sense to you on a business level.

The entire restaurant is surrounded by floor to ceiling windows, with a large pane of glass in the middle of the room, blurry with falling water.

The soft sound invites you, and as you get closer, You make out a wavy silhouette behind the glass.

You step around it, finding William facing the window, looking down at his phone.

He's dressed pristinely in a dark blue shirt, black pants and shoes, though the top buttons on his shirt are open, giving off a more casual vibe than his work shirt from earlier.

You watch him take a slow breath, and then lift his head in realisation, turning to look at you.

You smile at him as he turns, fitting his phone into his pocket in one swift moment, slowly approaching you.

He doesn't say anything, and you're too afraid to see repulsion in his eyes to keep looking at him, so instead you study his attire as well, admiring the way he looks, noticing the delicate silver chain shimmering around his neck as he moves.

He says your name, and you glance up at him with wide eyes as he stands before you.

He takes another slow breath, and raises a hand to push some of your hair away from your scent gland, the tips of his fingers just gently brushing it, eliciting an almost violent shiver of pleasure. 

“You look…” He lets out an amused breath, shakes his head slightly, “I can’t find the right word. Beautiful? Divine? Bewitching. Radiant...”

Delight bubbles inside of you until you can't resist a pleased smile.

“Thank you, Alpha, you look very nice too.”

When you say his title, you watch his eyes darken, his scent growing a little stronger in the space between you as his body calls out to yours.

You can feel it, the heat between you, the promise that he would take care of your every need no matter what.

“Hungry?” He asks, and you swear his words have a double meaning.

You nod, because you can't say it out loud, that you were starving, famished, not just for food but for the pleasure of his company, for the pleasure of him.

He guides you to the far end of the restaurant, towards a secluded corner, where there's a table waiting for you. 

You don’t get a chance to study the table because you’re distracted by a large… object covered in a velvet shroud. 

You walk around the object, preoccupied with it, turning to look at William with your eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“It’s my surprise,” He explains, stepping closer to you so that you can breathe him in, “I hope you like it.”

You look at it, the velvet shroud going up high, hanging precariously from the ceiling you think, one firm tug might bring it down.

When you look back at him, he’s got his eyes on you.

“When can I see what it is?” You ask eagerly.

He blinks, as if coming back to himself, glancing at the object as if he’s just remembered it.

“Take a step back,” He instructs, waiting until you comply to give another directive with a low voice.

“Close your eyes.”

Your heart pounds, excitement and anxiety war within you, the former winning over as you let your eyes close.

You hear footsteps, and then a tug, the sound of the shroud falling and the wind it generates as it does, caressing your face.

There’s a moment of silence, where your impatience fights you to open your eyes before he says, but you try your best to wait for William’s permission.

“You can open them now.”

You gasp in shock when you recognise what you’re looking at.

There’s so much gold, the painting glimmers in the light of the falling sun, you take a step forward, unsure of where to begin your examination. 

You tilt your head, studying the little flowers first, eyes roaming up to examine the clothing of the two subjects in the portrait, then the hands, the different colours, the flowers in her hair, the leaves in his.

A larger, male subject, pressing a kiss onto his lover’s cheek.

The Kiss, by Gustav Klimt.

“It’s beautiful, so much like the real one.” You murmur absentmindedly.

“It is the real one.” 

You pause, unable to register his words, before turning to him in shock, lips parted.

The alpha’s pleased expression grows into a smile.

“What do you mean this is the real one? The real one’s in Europe somewhere.”

He nods, as if to agree with you.

“Vienna, yes.”

You turn to examine the painting once more.

“...How?...Why?”

“I think you’ll find that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make your eyes glitter like they are right now.”

Me? You think in shock, looking away, down, towards the floor, unable to process the implications of his words.

He takes a step closer to you, catching your attention, you turn to him just as he reaches you. 

For a long moment, all you do is look into each other’s eyes. You take a slow breath, breathing in his citrus smell, the bergamot chasing after you.

You turn your head back to the painting, studying it while you feel his eyes on you.

“It’s gorgeous, Alpha, thank you.” You feel so much emotion, that it fills your throat and threatens to spill out.

Your lip wobbles, glancing up at him for a moment, and then turning away when you realise that he can probably see the tears in your eyes.

You feel his hand on your arm.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Why the tears?”

“It’s stupid, sorry.” You take a deep breath, sighing when he extends a handkerchief to you that you accept gratefully.

His hand moves, to wrap around your back, pulling you into his chest.

“Talk to me.” He whispers, his breath disturbing your hair.

“No one’s ever-” You let out a little laugh of delirium, “-No one’s ever done something so thoughtful for me.”

He hums, as though he understands, sympathizes with you, he wraps his arms around you, tucks your head into his chest.

His scent wraps around you, soothing you almost instantly, your eyes flutter shut as you register the beat of his heart below your ear.

“I just wanted to see you smile.” He says.

You do.

.

Dinner comes in a few moments later, and he guides you to the table just behind, with soft, comfortable chairs to settle into. He even checks in on your level of ease, inquiring about the brightness, and whether or not it was satisfactory. You smile softly, calmly reassuring him that the area was perfect, the tint on the windows keeping the intensity of the light low. Dim and comfortable, you can’t really ask for anything more.

The first course is a light broth, and you're a little confused that they brought this out without having you look at a menu.

It's definitely refreshing, to not have to struggle with a decision on what to eat, but you're not sure if to ask William about it, in case it's just some rich person custom that you're unfamiliar with.

In any case, this arrangement pleases you because it means you can stare at The Kiss in admiration while the sun sets, casting a soft orange glow around the room, enhancing the mostly gold painting.

“Will you tell me about it?” William asks, and you spare a shy glance at him.

He tilts his head in the direction of the painting. You swallow your food, gathering your thoughts to answer.

“It's inspired by the painter and his lover, it's one of the most popular paintings of an alpha and omega pairing. There was a… speculation that they were soulmates, but I'm not sure how true that is. Some people think that because the omega is turning away, that the kiss isn't consensual… but I don't think so, she seems… happy to me.”

“You don't think they were soulmates?”

You turn to William.

“Not really, I don't… believe in the soulmate theory.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“No?” He says curiously.

You shake your head.

“It's a little unreal to think that there’s some kind of perfect match for a person.” 

“It's not necessarily a perfect match like in the movies, it's a suggestion of… compatibility really.” He says.

You blink, studying his expression, wanting to express your disbelief that he would believe in something so farfetched but not wanting to be disrespectful.

“It's not even a perfect match, it's the way the theory specifically targets alpha and omega pairings. As if omegas aren't already bound by their biology enough, someone had to come up with an idea to hold us back even further by romanticising the concept of an alpha match.” You keep your tone calm, so that he understands you're not upset.

He tilts his head in contemplation.

“You don't like the idea of being with an alpha?”

You swallow.

“That's… not what I mean. I just don't like being forced into thinking that it's my only option in search of companionship.”

He makes a face of contemplation, seeming to understand where you were coming from.

Plus, it was a trick alphas had used with you in the past to encourage you to stay in toxic environments.

Don't give up on us, omega, we're soulmates, I can feel it.

You had been fooled before, it would not happen again.

William studies you for a long moment, and you gaze back evenly, before he smiles, tilting his head once more to lighten the mood.

“You make a good point, but still, I can’t help but point out the ways alphas are made for omegas, of course a pairing between them would be stronger.”

His words take you aback, it's the first time someone has ever made the comment that alphas are the ones made for omegas, usually they say it the other way around.

“Maybe…” You concede, unable to stop yourself from thinking about his words. You wonder for a brief moment if he was made for you.

It sends a warm feeling across your chest.

You turn your head, looking up at The Kiss.

“My past experience has made me skeptical about the entire theory, Alphas before have used it to keep me compliant.”

He lets out an audible breath, and when you turn your head to look at him, you find his fists curled and his head dipped low.

The scent of anger hits you, spicy in the air, like a mix between smoke and hot peppers.

“Alpha?” You whisper in concern, worried that his anger is directed toward you.

Tentatively, you reach out, fingers shaking slightly as you touch one of his clenched fists.

He relaxes the fist, turns his hand upward so that his palm is pressed upward into yours. Your palm tingles where you touch.

“Angry on your behalf, omega,” He tries to explain with a low voice, “You shouldn't have had to go through that.”

Realisation washes over you. The smell of his anger excites you now that you understand it's not directed at you.

You feel butterflies, you feel warmth, you suck in a deep breath to get some semblance of control over your hindbrain.

“Thank you, Alpha.” Your voice, almost a purr.

He blinks, studying you,  his eyes shifting from surprise to pleased as he realises the effect he has on you.

The sound of footsteps coming your way makes you draw back.

The second course is lobster pasta, creamy and delicious and you try extra hard not to make yourself messy while eating it.

“What do you think?” He asks between bites of his food.

You look up, eyes wide as he gazes back at you.

You swallow your food, thinking hard about what to say.

“I'm still skeptical about the soulmate theory, but maybe you're right that it does exist. Looking at the painting up close, you see that gold aura surrounding both of them? I think that's supposed to represent their bond. They loved each other, there's no question there.”

You watch a smile pull onto his perfect face.

“I meant the meal, sweetheart.”

Your face grows warm.

“Oh… It's good!” You look down at the plate shyly, “Yeah.”

He chuckles. 

“You're very cute when you're shy.”

You bite the edge of your lip, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He grins down at you and something warm settles in your stomach. You wanted to kiss him.

Maybe you could, maybe he would let you. 

In this beautiful dress you feel like you're not yourself, your insecurities washing away under his gaze. For the first time, you’re just an omega, enjoying the company of an alpha that you hope could be yours in time.

You think about being in his arms, the way he makes you feel, his ability to soothe you, the ways you hope he would sate you.

You suck in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before your pheromones give away your needy state of mind.

Should you take him up on his offer to be his Omega? Would it be possible to balance that? How would it even work?

“William?” You say softly.

He pauses his movements to look at you.

“Earlier- Maria called you ‘Billy’- made me wonder if you were friends?”

The corner of his lips pull into an affectionate smile, you try really hard not to worry about the other omega.

“Maria is mated to my brother, Frank. She owns a small salon on the east side, I thought she would help you feel comfortable.”

That's so thoughtful, you think.

“Yes, she was amazing, thank you.”

If this was a trap, then it was well set, you couldn't see a flaw, you didn't have any reason to think he could be like other Alphas.

“Everyone has called me “Billy” for as long as I can remember. My real name had never really appealed to me until I heard you say it.”

You give him a warm smile, your stomach fluttering at the privilege you didn't realize you had until now.

You wanted this so much that it terrified you. To be his Omega- what would it be like? To have unrestrained access to him, to be able to scent him as you please, to be scented in return.

He sucks in a sharp breath, leaning away, it catches your attention. Your eyes widen when you realise your pheromones are heavy in the air.

His eyes roll shut, he lets out a shaky breath, fingers curling because of you for the second time tonight.

It doesn't help, the look of him, barely restrained, fighting his nature with every ounce of self control only makes you want him more.

“I'm sorry.” You whisper, scared to break his focus.

He lets out a breath, a smile pulling the corner of his mouth. The look of leashed delirium in his eyes when he finally opens them.

“Don't be.” He responds, his voice so deep that it almost makes you shiver with how pleasing it sounds.

You suck in deep breaths too, to calm yourself, eyes drifting to the painting to let it distract you.

You certainly were a match, there was no question about it, the urge to tear at each other was there, the only thing holding you back was social etiquette, and your internal reservations.

The effect your heat must have had on him- you almost feel sorry for what you might have put him through. 

Dessert is a caramel drizzled pecan cookie, soft and chewy, the right amount of spices and sugar that makes you lick your fingers afterwards with the knowledge that it was the best cookie you've ever had.

You catch him looking at you with kind eyes and you try your best not to shy away from his gaze.

When you excuse yourself to the restroom, you try to look like you know where you're going, at least until you're out of his eyesight, and then you wander around the empty restaurant until you find a sign pointing you in the right direction.

You’re in one of the stalls when you hear loud voices and footsteps.

“-my god! That is literally the hottest Alpha I’ve ever seen in real life.” A first voice says, on the side of a little too high pitched for your sensitive ears.

“I knoooow,” The other person responds, “I would literally do anything he asked me to do.”

You pause, feeling a little strange to interrupt their obviously personal conversation by stepping out.

“I heard from Tim that he rented out the entire restaurant for the night just to impress some omega.”

Wait, were they talking about William?

You hear the stall next to you open and close, the taps turning on.

“No, I think they had to clear the restaurant for the night because of the painting and something about security.”

“Oh, that makes sense, the amount he must have paid to get all that done in one evening. God, I would jump him literally after dessert.”

You hear a groan, the sound of water as the taps turn on.

“I know right? I’ve been totally scenting the air in hopes that he gives me a second look. Nothing too obvious, only subtle enough for him. I really, really hope…”

The rest is unintelligible as the voices fade.

You wait a few more moments to make sure they’re really gone before you unlatch the door and step out.

It’s a lot of information to have overheard, and you’re not really sure what to think.

You step up to the sink, washing your hands methodically, reaching for a little towel to dry your hands, before looking up at your reflection in the mirror.

You smile at yourself, hindbrain preening that Alpha had gone through such lengths to capture and hold your attention. That maybe, Alpha wanted you, really really wanted you and no other omega would do.

He’s standing at the painting when you see him again, the table has been cleared, and you watch him as he focuses on the canvas in front of him.

He turns to look at you when he catches movement in his peripherals.

You’re very skittish to approach him, your mind spinning at a mile a minute, trying to both overthink and under simplify the actions you want to make.

The expression on your face must worry him, his eyebrows draw together as he studies you.

“Is everything alright?” He asks calmly, and you lift your head, studying his face of concentration.

You part your lips, trying to speak, no words able to leave your moving lips.

He dips his head, trying to make sense of the nothingness escaping you.

His scent fills your nose, the citrus, the bergamot, a very new touch of spice that pushes your hindbrain into desperation.

“Alpha.” You whisper softly, a touch of yearning in your voice, tilting your head up to press your lips to his.

It’s an instant, and total erasure of any higher thought. The way his mouth feels against yours, like something ancient and primal finding its way back to each other again. A familiarity that your mind and body has been searching for from the day you presented. 

It’s over too soon, even though it feels like it lasted forever. Time slows as you lean away, looking up at him, searching his eyes for any sign that you’ve made the wrong move, the ghost of his touch tingling at your lips.

You listen to the depth of his breathing, your heart hammering anxiously in your chest, awaiting his reaction. You catch a flare of his scent, the citrus notes deepening and your hindbrain eases your anxiety, a response that tells you that Alpha is pleased.

Finally, he makes a low hum, stepping forward, one arm winding around your back so that your bodies are pressed flush to each other.

“Omega.” He rumbles in response, fingers under your chin to tilt your head, guiding your mouth to his once more.

His mouth is insistent, pressing back, meeting every move of your desire with a response of his own. He moans, his warm breath on your tongue as the kiss grows into something… more.

Losing yourself, your hands cling to his shoulders, finding balance as you rise onto your toes, desperate to taste him, to feel the ache of yearning ease with each move of his mouth.

His lips are soft, sinful, you can feel his barely restrained movements, his hand gliding to grip the back of your neck, trapping you in place as if you could ever think about departing from his embrace.

Your scent gland tingles, spilling your need into the air, your body trying its best to entice him.

His mouth grows more insistent, demanding, and you find yourself responding, lips parting, tongue reaching out to gently graze along his bottom lip. 

His hold on you tightens, fingers gripping your hip deliciously, desire pooling low in your stomach in response.

Both of his hands cup your face, kisses slowing as if he's trying to find the strength to stop but unable to.

You smile into the kisses, each one more meaningful than the last, until finally he pauses, looking down at you with a pleased expression on his face.

His thumb glides along your lips, the scent of both your desires intermingling heavily in the air.

“I take it then, that you don't want me to leave you alone after this?” 

You huff out a laugh, almost rolling your eyes.

He grins too, before leaning in to get one more kiss.

“Maybe,” you murmur softly, “Maybe I don't.”

He hums in agreement, dipping his head, unable to stop himself from getting yet another kiss.

Your heart feels so full in your chest, it feels like you're going to burst with the flood of emotion. He doesn't push you into anything, avoids touching your scent glands though you know you both want him to. You can feel his fingers tightening their grip on your cheek and jaw, trying their hardest not to wander.

His scent grows more potent in the room, and by the time you leave, the betas in the restaurant are giving him their largest doe eyed stares.

It's a shame for them that he barely spares them a glance, his hand settled on the small of your back to put you at ease by making you feel protected.

His scent overwhelms you in the car, but you've been aching and wet for a while and you've just kind of gotten used to the discomforts of unresolved desire. You know without a doubt that you're going to have to relieve this ache inside of you by yourself tonight, and it's definitely going to be his name on your tongue the entire time you do it.

You take a long look at him beside you, and you wonder if he would be doing the same.

Tucked into his side, it's easy to tilt your head up, and press your nose to his scent gland, breathing him in, hearing him groan in response, your body tingling.

He doesn't stop you, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip hard to stop yourself from kissing the spot on the base of his neck.

It's surreal, the time you spend with him, that when he stops at the wrong building, it's like a punch to the gut.

This is where you'd lied and told him you lived… because you were ashamed of your real address.

“Can I walk you to your door?” He asks politely, warm reassurance in his eyes that he simply wants to make sure you're safe.

“No.” You answer hastily, smiling in an attempt to put him at ease, “I'm alright, thank you.”

You glance down at your strawberry dress, anxiety filling you at the thought of being seen in something like this, that it might catch attention you didn't want.

“It's cold outside, do you want my coat?”

You blink up at him in surprise.

He gives you a teasing smile, reaching for a garment on the seat in front of him, producing a familiar coat and extending it to you.

You swallow, accepting the coat on autopilot, face heating as you remember the things you did with this coat during your last heat.

You bring it up to your nose, hindbrain in control, taking a slow inhale of his scent.

Fuck, it was delicious. Your mouth waters as you meet his dark eyes.

“Thank you, Alpha.” You purr, sliding the coat on, over your dress, watching his eyes darken further at the sound of your voice.

He reaches up, trapping a lock of your hair between his fingers, twisting it, tugging on it gently as his hand slides down.

He looks like he’s deep in thought, but you’re just not sure about what.

“Goodnight, Omega.” He finally says, after a few moments of silence.

Stepping out of the car, leaving him behind, your limbs grow heavy with protest the further away you get from him.

When you make it into the building, you finally see his SUV drive away.

.

There’s an ache to leaving you behind that leaves Billy both confused and captivated.

He lets out a slow breath, sinking into the seat, head tipped back. 

Keeping himself in check had been the most difficult thing he’d ever experienced. To look at you, was to want you, and to want you, was to need you. Every look, every touch, every smile on your mouth was a lesson in self control. 

He was unbelievably afraid of scaring you away, that his control would slip, and his desires would show, and they would terrify you into leaving.

The ways he wanted you, the ways he thought about you. He lets out a soft groan, tugging at his shirt to get himself more air, but all he can smell is you.

He wants the feel of your bare hips in his hands, the taste of your skin in his mouth, his lips over your scent gland, your pitiful little whines filling his ears as he takes his time with you, discovering every way one human can make another fall apart, so that he can put you back together again.

Thoughts, that were maybe too insane to be thinking after a second date. Thoughts that would make you run if you knew just how close he’d been to actually carrying them out. No Omega, had ever made him hurt with the fear of rejection quite like this before.

That solid ache in his chest to be in your presence was only getting stronger, and then you'd kissed him.

He lifts a hand, pressing it to his mouth, remembering the way your lips had felt, the way your scent had sweetened. He resists a groan, your scent calling out to him like a beacon in the dark.

With his eyes closed, he could feel a pull, drawing him in the opposite direction of where he was going.

His apartment is lonely. The silence is loud, the smell is all wrong. He fits himself into his single sofa chair, large enough that his pretty Omega could fit herself into the space beside him, or on top of him if she’d like. He sips on the whiskey in his hand, an attempt to ease his nerves, to make the wrongness of his place feel a little less so.

He lets the silence fill him, wonders what you’re doing, thinks about texting you. He opens his phone and sees all his sent messages.

Billy hesitates.

Maybe he should wait, let you reach out this time, whenever you were ready. 

Puts his phone down, thinks about you more, groans when he catches your scent on his clothes.

It hurt to wait. It made his chest burn with the notion that he couldn’t just reach out to you, because you might draw back.

He presses a hand to his chest, tries to take a deep breath and be patient.

The whiskey is almost finished when he feels his phone vibrate.

He picks it up, and smiles.

.

.

.

[electraslight]

hello! inquiring minds want to know about your thoughts on gus. in particular the mask w the third eye + the third eye you drew him with a couple times. i've always been a little disappointed with how little the show expanded on the stuff we saw in e.g. labyrinth runners and you always have interesting things to say (or make up on the spot :P) about your designs ^^

i love gus!! hes so charming and basically every episode with a gus subplot is good. the stuff about the illusionists graveyard and gus protecting it is really cool and gets me thinking about how much gus knows about magical artifacts (he should be a historian not a teacher when hes older imo) and labyrinth runners is one of my favorite episodes. i think the specific way hunter and gus connect is really well written and i wish wed seen them interact more after that (but i just generally very much enjoy their friendship). I think people often talk about gus as if it was hunter specifically that 'stole' his screentime but like, are we forgetting gus and willow were barely used in favor of episodes trying to teach a 5 year old child concepts hes too young for lol. season one was so poorly paced in comparison to s2 that yeah, i dont think it was hunter that took from gus specifically. you could say the same thing about amity

I do however think willow's very shoehorned 'arc' in s3 would have fit way better with gus, who has 1. forced himself to keep up a peppy attitude and uplift everyone else even though hes terrified for his dad and also is like. 12. 2. has been known to have intense involuntary magic outbursts that can sometimes induce flashbacks of your worst moments ever, and 3. you can still do the thing where hunter talks them down bc like. theyve done this before. like i feel like honestly willow had completed her arc in season 2 and after that most willow stuff was her trying to convince everyone else she was better now. I have a lot of issues with how huntlow kind of erased willow and gus's friendship too, which i always though was rlly cute, but again i digress

back to my gus design, the 'third eye' is facepaint like willow or amity's markings, but while hes using his powers it can appear to move around. hes not pictured with the mask here but he has a set of comedy and tradgedy masks (the blight twins have this insignia too but i havent drawn them casually yet) Gus has satyr blood (his grandparent was one of the last satyrs to interact with witches before they left to live in the forest after their lifestyle was no longer supported. God damn it belos) so his ears are bigger than other witches and hes very short.

anyway. i like gus a normal amount. thanks for asking!

[panchatea]

Aletheia & Etterath

ChaCha Story Commissions.

Gahyeon x Male Reader ft. SuA

Tags: Romance, Lover’s Sex, Dreamcatcher, Gahyeon, SuA, Fluff, Melodrama

Wordcount: 11956

LAST PART OF THE SERIES

PART 1 - Aulasy & Kairoclerosis

PART 2 - Amour & Liaison

A/N: This is the last part of this series. Yey! I hope it's okay, I haven't written anything this technical before and I haven't written smut for more than a year. please do tell me how is it. It's not perfect but yeah.

Support me on KOFI

***

“Unnie, do you love me?” There’s just something that has always been both a blessing and a curse for me. People seem to think I am just a dumb pretty face who is unaware of anything around her—even my members always treat me like I'm a child.

However, the truth is, I know…

I observe and I always watch. 

I know.

I just don't talk.

“Gahyeonie, of course, I love you.” She smiled caringly as she continued to wipe that iniquitous body of hers that I’m so jealous of—slender, sexy, toned, and petite so unlike my curvy voluptuous body. Well, despite my jealousy of her body and other things, I’m glad to have her, she loves me so genuinely like her own sister. 

I love her too. 

But I know… 

She’s jealous of me too, and makes me so happy. 

“Do you love him too?” She smiled again, but this time it was almost too bittersweetly. Bora-unnie opened her mouth and she didn't speak for a moment.

“Of course, I love him.” I know you. That was your true feelings, wasn't it? 

“Every member loves him. He’s cute and he takes good care of you. There's no way we wouldn't love him.” That was true. She didn't lie, but it was far from her truth.

Nonetheless, I just tucked myself in the sheets and pretended to sleep. I just didn't know what to say to her or you so I held back. It wasn't before I felt her warm body beside me. It was Bora-unnie.

She's always been good to me. She always took good care of me. What's mine could have been hers, but she didn't take it. She gave you to me.

I always knew.

I saw it.

That spark in your eyes the first time you met her. Time must have slowed for you during those five seconds.

The way you listened intently to my stories, but you always had ears for things about her. You were always curious, but you never asked.

The way you glance over her reaction whenever they teased us of being lovers before. 

The way she had always greeted you first. And was always there watching over us two. 

You two always had an eye for each other. 

It always felt like she wanted you. 

And when you asked her about love.

When you said “I love you” to her. 

I knew. 

“Can’t fall asleep?” I heard Bora-unnie say. I thought it was for me, but then… 

“Noona, what will happen from now on?” You answered her from my left side. I only noticed your presence then, maybe from all the thinking. 

“I honestly don’t know,” Bora-unnie said as I felt her warm embrace engulf me, “she didn’t say it but I think she knows, but I’m too scared to ask.”

And I’m too scared to tell you two. Why didn’t I just wish the two of you to live happily? Why must you two hurt because of me?

“I’m happy and grateful for her tonight so I decided not to be greedy from now on. Tonight might happen again or not ever again but either way, I’m fine with it,” she continued as her hug tightened. 

I’m the one who should be sorry for ruining something beautiful between the two of you. I’m sorry for being selfish, but I’m sorry because I don’t regret it.

“Whether she might decide to keep this sexual thing going or decide to acknowledge my feelings for you and let me share your relationship with the three of us or just bury it, I will not complain and do something.” I already did acknowledge it Bora-unnie, but the moment you surrendered him to me, that was when you already lost.

“After all, I already gave you up to her ever since that day, and it’s a decision I don’t wanna take back and regret,” she said lastly. The pain was apparent in her tone. Her hands that hugged me were shaking. You sighed, you were quiet, you were just listening, and I wish you had expressed your thoughts more, but as usual, you were reserved.

“So that’s it?” You said with a tone of acceptance and defeat.

“That’s it,” She agreed before breaking her hug and turning her back to drift to sleep.

I opened my eyes, only to be met by your sleeping face. 

The face of the man that I love. 

The man who I wish loved me as much I love him, but sadly I’m not confident. 

What a player. It feels conflicting. I don’t plan on giving you up, but I’m not sure what these emotions are or what should I feel. You never cheated on me with her. You never did anything to compromise this relationship. You worked so hard to show your love for me, but whenever Bora-unnie is here, it always feels like you are chained to her, and she only pulls once, then you’ll leave me. I’m always at the mercy of her pity for me. Your words earlier still linger in my ear.  I trust you and your words.

“I loved you but I love Gahyeon.”

“Thank you, but please wait for me… at least until I can make a decision”

That's what I said but then again, 

I knew…

I would still choose you even if you don't.

And I wish,

You would choose me too.

The next day after that night was anticlimactic. It was awkward eating breakfast that morning. Everyone was quiet while eating the hotel room service food. It was a simple breakfast of toast, honey, butter, bacon, eggs, and coffee.

“This breakfast reminds me of Europe, we would eat this every day and I kinda missed the usual Korean breakfast after a while,” Gahyeon reminisced and you followed the conversation by asking about things about their tour while SuA stayed quiet, just listening to the two of you until breakfast was over. Gahyeon was weird today. She wasn’t doing that thing while she ate. 

SuA excused herself, saying that she had an appointment and left you two alone.

“I’ll go now, Kids. Take care you two.” SuA said before she left. SuA looked rather down, she wasn’t being her usual mature and mischievous self. It felt like she had a problem she couldn’t share.

“Worried?” She asked you.

It became even more awkward when you and Gahyeon were left alone inside the room. No one dared to talk about what happened last night. It felt like there was a wall between the two of you and Gahyeon had a lump inside her throat that she couldn’t get out. She tried to smile but they were bittersweet. You wanted to say something to help her but there was nothing, as you were painfully aware of the fact that you were the reason.

“About what?” You answered back but you knew it was about SuA leaving so abruptly. 

“I have no things to worry about.” You added as you smiled awkwardly.

Gahyeon stayed quiet after that and sat right beside you before locking hands with yours as she leaned onto your shoulders. She was clingy, refusing to let off your hand. It was comforting and reassuring, but it might be even a call for help from her. 

“Do you wanna stay like this all day?” You opted to stay with her.

 “No, I should visit my mom and dad. I haven’t seen them for so long,” She said and asked you to drive to her parent’s house. They haven’t seen her for so long you agreed.

The drive wasn’t any better. It was uncomfortably quiet with only the radio music filling the air. Thankfully, it played one Dreamcatcher’s song, and Gahyeon humming along with it made the atmosphere a little lighter. It was quite a long ride, but you survived.

Something was going on, and you were being kept in the dark. You knew it was about SuA. About what happened yesterday? It was not like you weren’t affected either. But you knew it was because of you, and you couldn’t do much.

“I love you,” you whispered before kissing her gently on the lips in front of her parents’ house. It was the only thing you thought you could do. A gentle kiss and the words she wanted to hear the most. 

Gahyeon reciprocated with a peck of her own on your lips. She inched close, another on your cheek. Before whispering her reply to your words.

“I love you too.” This time the side of her lips raised as she was almost too drawn by the black hole in front of her. Three words and a kiss were the reassurance she deserved. She turned around happily to their house.

The night before, Gahyeon wished for you to express yourself more. Say that you wanted her as much as she wanted you. Reject Bora flatly, but instead, what she got was only you wondering and a last defeated line.

But this time, the saying of those three words and the kiss reassured Gahyeon of something. Something that made her feel less of a pitied woman and more of a chosen love.

Months have passed since then and it was like the hatchet was buried. The topic has never been talked about. Unsaid feelings and concerns were left unsaid, but you and Gahyeon continued to work on your relationship. It was like she didn’t have to bring it up, as you knew ever since that moment in front of her parent’s house—it was a testament to your feelings—it was all that was needed.

Today, there she was sitting on her chair. With that black dress’ fitting her, she would make every model in this world thankful that Gahyeon became an idol—it hugged her body tightly, proudly highlighting her gorgeous figure. Not just that, the French tips, the designer ring you gifted her, a scrunchy just in case, pink hair, and red lips, complete a date night look.

Gahyeon was a goddess.

Gahyeon no matter what she was wearing or even if she was wearing nothing at all, she would be the most beautiful girl in this world to you and many people. Today though, she was dressed extra special, just for you, and with that, you were thankful for being the one chosen by this goddess.

Gahyeon’s attention was all poured into the menu in front of her. She giggled as she looked at each page excitedly. Why wouldn’t she be excited? The meal was treated by you, and it was your second anniversary. You just stared at her, reminiscing all of the things that you two had gone through for the past year. From a rather peculiar deal after a one-night stand, a night for three naked bodies with the same girl you had a one-night stand with, and through all of that confusion and pain you had caused the girl in front of you, here you were celebrating this festive day.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m gonna melt,” she teased as she closed the menu and gestured for the waiter to take her orders before looking back at you. Gahyeon smiled naughtily as if she had concocted something mischievous inside her head. 

She inched closer until there was only a few centimeters between you and her lips which made you instinctively close your eyes.

For a kiss, but you just heard giggling before you—

“Ahh! What was that?” you asked as you opened your eyes only to find the love of your life back at her seat with the same smirk she had earlier. You just caressed your forehead, trying to ease the pain of her attack.

“You looked too cute, I had to tease you.” Her laughs echoed into your ears—a symphony you would never get tired of. Sadly, that soon came to a halt as the waiter came to take the food order. Of course, the order was hers to decide alone, you had given her the privilege to do so on this special occasion.

She opted for a specialty dish, a whole pizza, a side of roasted potatoes, an assorted seafood dish, and pints of beer to keep the cold night warm.

“Yah, that’s too much, we can’t possibly finish all of that,” You said to her to which she replied with a pout, “Aish, you’re not planning on making me finish all of that?”

“Of course! It’s the man of the relationship's job to finish all the food his woman ordered.” Gahyeon pointed out before handing the menu to the waiter. There she goes, a typical girlfriend moves to use gender roles to get what they want.

The food didn’t take too long to arrive. And it also didn’t take any for you two to enjoy the feast in front of you.

“Here try this,” Gahyeon offered you a spoonful of the specialty dish she ordered which you gladly accepted shyly before she herself tried it. Whether she was sweet or she wanted to see how it tasted first, her mixed expression said it was both. 

“How was it?” She asked and you just nodded. Gahyeon never was the kind to hide her affection. She didn't even try to hide the relationship from the media. For a while it became a headache for her management, but with time and effort, it all became fine. Now it is an open fact that Gahyeon from Dreamcatcher is dating a non-showbiz man. 

“It’s delicious!” Gahyeon blissfully exclaimed after she took a bite. You smiled unknowingly while watching her—it looked like it was worth it to book this restaurant months earlier for this date. She was happy—the way she hummed as she ate was a testament to this. 

“Don’t stuff yourself too much or you’ll end up complaining to me later that you gained weight,” you teased her as you too stuffed yourself with the delicious food. She glared at you—never mention gaining weight with someone who controls theirs for their job. An idol needs to always stay in shape after all—their almost impossible-like figures. 

“I’m sorry.”

Time passed like that. You two passed bicker on to each other. Talking about all the mundane things. Just there, enjoying the company of each other.

The night has been perfect so far. The cold breeze was countered by the alcohol, delicious food alongside great conservation, and the reincarnation of beauty and kindness, your date Gahyeon has been nothing but lovely(also a teasing master), there was no reason to be unhappy. 

“I said to stop staring at me like that.” She looked at you sourly, pretending to be annoyed at you.

“I wasn’t, I wasn’t looking at you!” you retorted at her. “I was looking at that last piece of pizza.”

You took it, bit on it, and she looked like hell rose and her soul left her body.

“But, I was gonna take that last piece,” she dejectedly said as she pouted at you.

“Yah! You, we’re breaking up! You stole my pizza.” Gahyeon pointed her fork at you, threatening you with it.

“Come on now, fox, I’m sorry. Here take the piece.” You placed the pizza on her, but she just glared at you.

“But, you already took a bite!” She moved the piece back to your plate but you refused and placed it again on her plate.

“No! This is betrayal! Did you know wars started because of pizza!” Whelp, that was clearly an overreaction. Or maybe not, you made a mental note to search later which historical event she might be referring to.

For the second time, she returned the pizza. And by then you had already noticed other guests from the tables near you looking. Not that it was embarrassing you, but being a cause of distraction to other people was bad.

“Babe, I’m really sorry,” You apologized sincerely. “Look, we can order another pizza if you still want them. We can also take them as a takeout for later.”

 “The next time, I promise I’ll ask you, if you want the food before I eat it, okay?” You held out your pinky, and she raised just her eyebrow and crossed her arms as you wiggled the finger in front of her.

“Hmm, k. You better order the same one!” Gahyeon hooked her finger onto yours and stood up. It all happened too fast and before you even knew it, her lips connected to yours, not caring if it was a public display of affection or if she could be photographed by a random fan. 

You two had done it more than times you could ever count, but it was still as magical—her soft supple lips landing on yours, staining it with her red lipstick.

“Be ready, I think you’ll be on Dispatch tomorrow,” Gahyeon smirked as she disconnected her finger from yours and snatched the piece of pizza on your plate before she sat again and ate it. You will definitely be on Dispatch tomorrow after that,  but this time, it won’t be a controversy but it is to report about Gahyeon’s successful relationship.

As for you, you shyly sat there—red as an apple after that scene straight out of a KDrama. 

You shyly gestured for the waiter.

“Can we get the check and then a pizza for takeout,” you said to the waiter as Gahyeon continued to enjoy herself, taking pictures as she ate her food. You took out your phone to capture some photos.

It was such a mundane thing, but it was so beautiful. Her just being there, eating the food you treated her comfortably without any care in the world.

The way she smiles.

The way she munches her food.

It was love when even the most boring things became the most interesting.

There was no worry in this world with you and her in it. It was proving how fruitful your efforts were in this relationship.

You love her and that is all that matters. You wouldn't trade her for anything or anyone. That was what you decided ever since that day.

Soon the waiter came with a box of pizza and the check for the food. You paid for everything and got ready to leave. The night was still young, there were so many things to do, and there was only so much you could do.

Not much time after, Gahyeon found herself walking alongside the beach, and you followed her from behind. The air was cold to feel,  the song of the ocean resonated to the ear, her footsteps left prints on the sand beneath, and her dress flew and formed waves like the ocean’s. 

It was a sight to behold. 

There was just a certain kind of beauty as the moon just shone on her like it was a spotlight, her porcelain skin glowed as if it was reflecting the moon like the water does. The focus was all just for her and everything, even the breathtaking view just became a backdrop to her beauty. It was a picturesque sight that would forever be imprinted on one’s brain.

However, it wasn’t anything special. Rather it was just Gahyeon and your eyes. The eyes that allowed you to see her for who she was. It wasn’t because of her beauty, or her personality, it was Gahyeon as a whole. 

What people don’t really understand was that attraction and love are two different things.

Seeing someone and wanting them is attraction.

Seeing someone and wishing to be with them is love.

Of course, attraction is normal among lovers, but there is a fine line between lust, infatuation, and love. To which is what is underneath all that attraction. The normality and comfort of just being in her presence. Gahyeon isn’t the goddess or the idol of everyone. The difference between your love and the love of her fans is that you don’t look up in the sky for her—seeing her in glasses of such absurdity and obscurity.

Gahyeon is there.

She’s always been there up ahead. She’s not up there on a pedestal.

She’s there with you.

And that’s what you call Love.

And that’s when you truly see. It was not the glow of her skin under the moonlight, or the way her pink hair and black dress swayed to the blow of the sea breeze, or the way that sight was like a masterpiece waiting to be captured and kept in an art museum.

It was again only Gahyeon. Gahyeon who was just walking alongside the beach. Gahyeon, who was stuffed with all of the food she ate. Gahyeon, who probably was feeling cold, because one, she wore sleeveless, two she didn’t bring any jacket even though you told her to do so earlier, and three, because it was simply cold during that night.

Gahyeon makes you worry. Gahyeon makes you feel unease. Gahyeon makes you hurt. Gahyeon makes you wanna care. Gahyeon makes you feel alive. Gahyeon makes you cry. Gahyeon makes you laugh.

Gahyeon is Gahyeon.

She took out her phone, pointed it onto the horizon, and soon you felt a vibration inside your pocket.

“The moon looks so beautiful isn't it?” Her message said alongside the picture of the horizon as if you weren't there with her. You smiled as you typed the reply.

“Come on, why are you acting like I’m not even here,” you said as you approached her and nudged her. She giggled and looked at your face for a second before she went back to staring at the horizon. You dropped the pizza that you ordered as takeout at the sand, took off your jacket, and shielded Gahyeon from having a cold later tonight.

“I knew you’d do that. That’s why I didn't bring a jacket. It is a boyfriend thing to do,” she commented and you just giggled in response. 

“The moon looks so blue.” There it was up above the skies, shining alone brightly. It must have been lonely. There were no stars above and even if there were, no matter how it seemed like they were close to each other, they were truly drifting away from each other. It was scary. 

She held your hand. Tightly as if she was scared you would just disappear through thin air. It was sweaty and cold, but she didn't mind. 

“I prefer the red sunset.”

Yes, that red sunset back when we were just teenagers without any care in the world,  chasing our dreams, and then and there I knew I only had one dream. 

And it was to be with you. 

It was funny because I was making fun of how frail you were, and how you wouldn’t be able to run a mile. You wouldn’t be able to reach the beach at the end of the town. Your house was on the other end of the town after all. 

But you did, and the first thing you did was send me a photo of that beautiful red sunset.

t was so beautiful. 

It made me happy. 

You were amazing and it was beautiful. 

I could imagine how you were frowning when I replied and said how pretty it was.

I mean, you sent it to me to show how amazing you were right? 

It made me so happy so I took my bike and pedaled all the way to you. 

You were so funny. I caught you complaining.

“Not that! I want her to know how awesome it is that I ran here!” You exclaimed.

“Oh, you didn’t want to show me the sunset?” You didn’t even notice that I was behind you.

“That’s right… not the sunset…” That was when you realized, and looked back before jumping out of shock.

“Gah, what are you doing here?” You asked me.

“Talking to you last time made me want to see the sunset.” That is what I answered, but the truth is…

I wanted to see you. I even brought you a bottle of water. You drank as we sat on the sand.

“I’m so happy,”—I expressed— “you ran all the way here to send me a picture of that beautiful sunset.”

“It’s not like that…” you denied but you were blushing. You continued mumbling, trying to come up with an excuse. You were so cute, you didn’t know what to do and you couldn’t even understand what you were feeling.

I called out your name. You were so rattled.

“It’s so red, isn’t it?”

“Red? Am I blushing?”

But I just said…

“It’s a beautiful red sunset. So pretty…”

“The sunset? It sure is. It’s red, isn’t it.”

“Well, it’s not as red as you.” I couldn’t really help but tease you. Your reactions were so cute.

But really…  I was so glad.

I could watch that beautiful sunset with you.

Those were the days.

That was also the day, I realized… It wasn’t a crush.

I love you.

“Red sunset?” Your question brought back Gahyeon from her trance.

“Yes, I wanna see it again,” Gahyeon said as she continued to watch to the horizon while you watched her.

“Is this that beautiful?” You asked her.

“Yes, it was so beautiful,” Gahyeon answered. She turned to look at you and locked eyes.

“Yes, beautiful.” She giggled.

“Take me to the beach again soon,” Gahyeon asked full of expectations.

“Why?” You asked but you already made a mental note to plan another beach trip. Maybe this time back in yours and Gahyeon’s hometown. You remember visiting alone the last time you drove her to see her parents, and it was beautiful. Maybe you two could eat some crabs and other seafood.

Gahyeon loves seafood a lot after all.

“I wanna see a nice red sunset again. Also, I really want to catch some crabs.” Gahyeon said and rubbed her stomach. Is she a mind reader? Or was she just thinking about using her stomach? Either way, it made you laugh a little. You expected her to say something about food.

“Then, we should go earlier than today so that we catch some crabs while we wait for the sun to set.” It’s been decided. You don’t when, but you knew it was gonna happen, maybe when Gahyeon’s schedule loosened up again.

“I wonder how many I can catch.” She said after you ruffled her pink hair. Gahyeon retaliated, trying hard for you not to ruin her hair that she had so much time to perfect just for your anniversary date. When she finally was able to stop you, she glared at you and pouted cutely.

“You won’t be able to and you’ll make me catch them instead.” You just laughed as you tried to fix her again. You know her too much. Gahyeon would say that it’s a boyfriend thing to do to catch crabs for her girlfriend and cook them—she would leverage her girlfriend card again.

“That’s rude, I can do it too.” She slapped your hand and fixed her hair herself. Of course, her slap didn’t use too much force. Gahyeon is sulky girlfriend but she doesn’t want to cause you harm.

“I didn’t say, you can’t. I’m saying you’ll be too scared to do so.” She threw punches. Again they were not hurtful, but she was throwing a real tantrum and if you don’t calm her, she will sulk for the rest of the date.

“Come, sit here.” You held her hand and pulled her to sit on the sand near where you put down the takeout food from earlier.

“Open the pizza. I’m hungry.” She ordered to which to gladly followed. As soon as the box revealed the food, her eyes widened. Gahyeon, who was almost drooling turned her mood upside down because of the luscious pizza in front of her. She couldn’t restrain herself, as she excitedly hummed before she went for a piece and ate it.

“You’ll get fat,” You commented and she nudged you while her mouth was still stuffed.

“You’ll exercise with me, don’t worry,” Gahyeon retorted and you just laughed as you too took a piece.

The box of pizza was emptied as the night went on. Conservation under the moon went by faster than normal and that’s okay. As long as it was with her, time spent was time spent well. 

Soon she decided that the cold ocean breeze was not doing it for her anymore and opted you two to leave the beach. Hand-in-hand you two went back to your accommodation for the night—a hotel near the beach and the restaurant.

The hotel room was nice. It wasn’t anything special like what most fans would thought idols were always staying in. It was a small suite with a single bed, kitchen, bath, and a balcony that overlooks the ocean. It was nice and not over the top. Gahyeon loved it. As soon as she entered the room, flopped and bounced on the bed, playing as if she still had so much energy to burn.

“Come on, our anniversary night is still not over!” Gahyeon had her arms open wide, tempting you to jump on her arms. It wasn’t an offer anyone could refuse. A woman as cute and attractive as she flopped her arms open wide on top of a fortress of pillows and mattress, there was no way you would pass on that.

It was a long night that you wish wouldn’t end.

You didn’t waste any more time to accept her offer as soon you were engulfed by her arms. You were on top of her, pressing onto her as she caressed the back of your head. Gahyeon smelled nice. Gahyeon always smells nice. Her smell made you feel relaxed, and her hug was comfortable. She gently ghosted her hand back and forth of your hair as she hummed your favorite song.

It felt like a baby being held and hummed to sleep. It felt like heaven. It felt like home. It felt like the right place. And that place was inside her nestling hug. Gahyeon cuddled you, and you nestled back. Her voice was angelic. It was a known fact, but hearing her voice almost whispering the melodies of love, was the greatest fan service only available to you.

Your phone vibrated a few times, but you ignored it as you focused only on her and her alone. Relish the moment while it lasts. Take advantage of each second before it passes. For God JiU’s sake, it was your anniversary and nothing is more important than Gahyeon and you—it was probably just some work problem needing of solution anyway, they could at least handle it for one night.

Before you even knew it, Gahyeon finished her song.

“Thank you for putting up with me.” She whispered.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m your boyfriend.” You answered back.

“Do you lo—”

“I love you,” you cut her before she could the question to allow her to hear the words. However, she didn’t do so after all.

“I love you too,” Gahyeon whispered before she pushed you off her and got off the bed with a mischievous smile.

“You’ll suffocate and squish me if we stay this way for long,”—Gahyeon pointed at you—“Special cuddling fanservice session is finished.”

This time you were the one to pout at her.

“No fair, I wanna cuddle more,” You complained.

“Take care of that constant vibration on your phone first while I take quick shower.” Gahyeon winked, “We’ll do something special when you come back.”

In the blink of an eye, Gahyeon disappears to the bathroom after insinuating something naughty for later. You were left in a daze for a few seconds, imagining what she meant by her words. You were only able to break the trance after a vibration.

You finally opened your phone only to be shocked by what was on the screen which made your smile turned upside down.

You quickly went down to the hotel lobby, where the message on your phone led you to find her.

“I just came back from a long hiatus and you’ll greet me with that face?” She pointed out your conflicted expression.

“Noona… why are you here?” She approached for a hug, but you were quick to step back and draw a line between the two of you.

It was SuA who you didn’t hear so much after months of cutting the connection from all of you—or at least from you. You were reluctant to talk to her.

“Why are you giving me the cold shoulders?” SuA teased as she once again approached step-by-step and you backed down for each step she took.

“Noona, stop this… what are you doing.” But she didn’t listen and forcefully tried to take your hand. Of course, you had more strength than her but being forceful to someone you cared about was hard.

“I’m taking you with me,” SuA declared as she tried to pull you, but you just didn’t let her as she pleased.

“Noona, I’m not going with you. Where? Where were you even? Where are you trying to take me?!” You lashed out at her. Thankfully, no one was around to see the scene. The older one just stared at you annoyed that you didn’t listen to her.

That standoff took a few seconds before you turned your back to walk away. You were finished with her. You were not doing this. Atleast, not on your anniversary night. You were not going to get swayed by her.

“Didn’t you say that you love me?”—her words stopped your steps—“Prove it to me now, ran away with me.” 

Turn back. Look at her. Hear her cries.

“I love you.” Beads of tears slowly fell down her gorgeous face.

“Please, say it. 

I wanna hear it again. 

Say that you love me. 

Choose me.” 

It was painful, watching her cry fully knowing that you were the reason.

“I love Gahyeon.” Three words. One sentence. One name that wasn’t her.

It was short but meaningful. You didn’t regret. You were straight. You didn’t apologize for either hurting her or not choosing her. You said it. And that broke SuA.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.” Those were the words that escaped SuA's mouth as she realized it was too late and where it all went wrong for her—where she lost. You helped her. She looked so frail. What did she even do all this time?

“Noona…” SuA wiped her tears and quickly composed herself. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” SuA faked a smile and you returned it to her with a caring one.

“I’ll be off your back, don’t worry,” SuA said as she tried to walk away. You stopped her. You held her hand, but just like what you did earlier.

“Where are you going?” You asked her worriedly.

“Don’t worry, I already told Minji-yah that I’ll be coming back. I ain’t going nowhere,” She explained as she walked away.

“Let’s catch up soon.” 

She looked back. 

She smiled bittersweetly. 

“Tell me, when did you realize that you love her?” Those were her last words before she walked away and left you speechless. However, maybe it wasn’t really what she wanted to ask, but rather the words were…

“When did you realize you didn’t really love me?”

It didn’t take long before SuA was no longer in sight. And her words are still stuck in your head. When? When did you really realize it? 

Take out your phone. Stare at the picture of the woman on your wallpaper, Gahyeon. 

When did I realize I love you?

That’s a really funny question. 

But really. 

It was maybe sometime after we officially started dating. 

Honestly, I wasn’t sure yet. I knew I loved Bora-unnie or so I thought I loved her. I wasn’t sure. I was confused at that time. But I did my best to make you happy. 

To try to make it with you. 

I said I love you. We kissed already. We even had sex already at that time. I’m cruel aren’t I? I’ll probably go to hell for being a liar. 

I knew I didn't love you yet. I felt disgusted with myself. You were like a sister to me after all. And I was lying and taking advantage of your feelings for me. 

But… 

Love is a Lie. 

I said and I knew it was a lie. 

But I wished, for one day… I’ll be able to truly tell you without any lies. To be able to kiss you out of love. To be able to be one with you. To want you as much as you wanted me. 

To love you more than you love me. 

One day… 

It happened. 

It wasn’t like I expected it to be. 

It was a normal day. It wasn’t anything special. 

I just woke up and that was when I realized… 

I love you, Gahyeon. 

When I saw your face the moment I opened my eyes. You were far from your beautiful self in front of the camera. You were ugly. Your hair was like a broom. You were snoring. Your breath stinks. You were eating your hair and you had dried drool on the sides of your lips. 

You were ugly, Gahyeon. 

It made me laugh. Although, I wasn’t any better. I was just fortunate enough to wake up earlier than you. I had time to fix myself before I got called ugly by you. 

But I didn't…

I went for the kiss on your drool-painted lips. Mine wasn’t any different. 

But this time it was different. 

I kissed you because I love you. 

I love you.

Not anyone else.

How could I be so blind when you were here all along?

I kissed you again and it felt so right.

But I accidentally woke you up.

You were smiling. That was the brightest smile I've ever seen in my life. You giggled as the sun funneling through the window illuminated you.

“Your breath stinks,” you teased.

“Please, brush your teeth then come back and kiss me,” you added.

It was funny. Yours stinks too! I didn't mind it at all, and I bet you didn't mind mine too.

That morning was a drop of dew. And I just watched you with love. The way you walked around with your disheveled hair and just my shirt on. You didn't care at all. Why would you? It's just me, the man you love.

You were so lazy that I had to brush your teeth and tie up your hair. If only your fans could see you, I wonder how they would react?

You're a slowpoke, Gahyeon. I couldn't blame you though, with a schedule as busy as yours. I would use any free time to laze around.

“When will breakfast be ready?!” You exclaimed from the bathroom while I was in the kitchen. You always cared about food.

“In a few minutes, take your time with your routine!” You were sleepy and lazy but you were always so diligent. You never skip on anything. You always took care of yourself. Although, most of the time, I still had to take care of you.

Maybe, that's my job.

“Gah! Breakfast is ready!”  When breakfast was finally ready, you sprinted to the dining table. You were suddenly but then became sheepish. You took most bites with your eyes closed.

From then I took a mental note to prepare something that would help you sleep better every night before bed.

You took each bite excitedly but still sheepishly. You hummed as you ate. You always hum when you eat. It has always been an indicator that you were eating something delicious. 

“This sucks. Do you want to take cooking lessons?” That was what you right after when you literally handed your plate for a second serving. 

I gladly gave it to you. Do you remember? 

That morning was so bright, comfortable, and was fleeting. Before I knew it, you were going to leave for practice and I was going to work. 

However, I wasn’t sad because we were parting for the day, rather, I was already expecting the bliss that I would have when I finally met in the night. 

It was such a peculiar thing, but I knew right then and there when I saw your back passing through my apartment door… 

I love you. 

“I should go back to Gahyeon,” You muttered to yourself as you made your way back to your hotel room, but unbeknownst to you, you would find an empty room. You wondered where she was. Did she meet SuA? Or did she somewhere else?

You were worried. You tried to text her and also tried to ask the hotel staff if they saw a pink-haired girl roaming. You might have taken too long because of SuA and she went out to look for you.

That was when you received a reply from Gahyeon.

“Wait for me.” That was what her text message said.

Where were you Gahyeon?

“Unnie,” Gahyeon called who was waiting at the other end of the hallway for SuA. The older stopped and looked at the younger. Did she he—

“I saw and heard everything.” For the first Gahyeon admitted that she was there or that she was listening. She always kept to herself and was always patient whenever something like this happened, but tonight Gahyeon decided differently. 

“Not gonna welcome your unnie back? I just came back from a long hiatus,” SuA commented as they faced each other. Two women, who love the same men, but while the other succeeds, the other fails.

“Well, I would be happy to welcome you with a hug and a kiss but you just tried to steal my boyfriend,” Gahyeon answered with an annoyed tone.

“I didn’t try to steal him,” SuA corrected as she approached Gahyeon step-by-step. The younger stepped backward every time the older closed in up until she couldn’t, hitting the wall behind her. SuA was so closed, uncomfortably closed for Gahyeon, but she didn’t backed down.

“He’s mine to begin with,”—No one dared to break eye contact—“He loves m—”

“He loved you, Bora,” Gahyeon cut. She said so sternly and clearly, even opting not to use any honorifics. SuA bit her lip in response to what Gahyeon said. She knew deep down it was true. She just couldn’t accept it. 

“He loved you,”—Gahyeon reiterated before SuA could even retort—“What? Cat’s got your tongue? It’s true is it not?”

Gahyeon had put SuA in her place or rather, she had put her back in her place. It was harsh, but SuA was reckless. She came out of nowhere and tried to hijack their anniversary night. It was almost as if SuA went there and just hoped for the best and trusted the little hope she had. Gahyeon, on the other hand, didn’t think twice to defend her place.

“I shouldn’t have pitied y—” SuA said before biting her lip as she instantly regretted what she had said, but it was too late. Gahyeon after hearing what SuA said, had a hammer punched in her stomach. She wasn’t expecting SuA to at least not say those words. Or at least for SuA not to feel that way. Gahyeon knew her and you happened partly because SuA felt bad about her, but for it to be said in her face…

Something inside of them broke, and a bottomless pit sunk inside of their hearts.

“I don’t know you anymore.” Gahyeon pushed her, and SuA fell to the ground. She didn’t mean to push her down to the ground, just enough to put distance between the two of them. Her heart ached. Gahyeon was worried as she looked down on her as the older looked away in shame.

“Please don’t call me or him. I don’t care about our jobs. Please, I’ll find a way. Just leave.” Gahyeon walked away and SuA could only watch her as tears once again flowed out of her eyes. She knew she had not only lost you, but now she lost Gahyeon. 

Gahyeon wasn’t any better, she cried and wept as she took heavy steps fully knowing she had just cut off one of the most important people in her life. They both didn’t want for things to end up like this, but emotions cascaded like a waterfall and there was no way of stopping this. There was no way it could have ended with all parties happy—it was simply impossible.

Love takes.

Love is painful.

Love comes with a price.

Gahyeon clearly remembered. She didn’t want things to end up this way. She tried. A scenario where no one was hurt, but in the end… all of you ended up hurting. It was foolish to hope. Gahyeon wiped her tears and found somewhere to sit. She closed her eyes.

“Gahyeonie, wake up.” I opened my eyes and my eyes met with daggers of light before I saw her—the face of the person I was most jealous of. SuA, who was asleep beside me.  SuA who made love with me and my boyfriend.

“Swa, good morning,” I greeted, still half-asleep.

“Good morning, Baby.” She caressed my face. Her eyes… They looked so sad. She looked like she was in pain, but she smiled.

“What's wrong, Unnie? I asked worriedly. Although, once again I knew… I knew but I couldn't do anything. Or I wouldn't do anything. I would die if I were to give back what she gave me.

‘Gahyeonie, do you love him?” SuA said, almost choking on her words.

“Yes, I love him so much. I have loved him for so long.” Those were my words. Those were also the words that drove you like this.

I'm sorry for being selfish.

“Unnie, do you love him?” I asked her once again. The same question from the night before.

“I do,” She confessed, and tears started to flow down her cheeks, staining her pretty face. She confessed… it came straight from her mouth. Her true feelings.

“But I love you more.” Those words… I didn't even know how to react. It was so sincere.

I wiped her tears, but I was crying too. Everything was a mess, and honestly, I was surprised how you slept through all of it.

When you woke up, it was as if nothing happened. We had a pleasant breakfast but the atmosphere was so awkward.

But I didn't expect it. That was the last I would see SuA for a long time. She just left. If I knew I would have hugged her. But I only found out later on from JiU-unnie that she left the country and went on a sudden hiatus.

If I knew…

I should have known at that moment.

It was goodbye.

That is until now.

Gahyeon opened her eyes. She had calmed down. She stopped crying. She knew she had to return to your suite. You were waiting for her, but she knew you would notice her puffy eyes.

That she cried a lot.

“So much for an anniversary night,” Gahyeon muttered as she stood up to head to a comfort room before going back to the suite where you were waiting.

Soon, Gahyeon stood in front of the door. Nervous about how she would explain what happened or how to open up about the topic or how to even talk about it. She wasn't ready, but she knew you would ask.

“Please, don’t ask.” She grabbed the doorknob and turned it. As the door swung, she found you, and couldn’t help but smile as she found you pacing back and forth, worried about her. 

“Gahyeon!” You exclaimed. You saw her and ran up to her—finally relieved that Gahyeon had come back. 

Before she could even react, she was engulfed by your arms in a bear hug. Her arms enveloped back as yours tightened. Hearts were booming. You could feel it, she could feel it, every fast-paced beat booming as your hearts connected.

Gahyeon had let go. She just let it happen. She didn’t speak, she just nestled into the comfort and protection of your hug. It was her home. It was warm yet something cold on your chest countered it. It was your shirt wetted by the diamonds dripping down her beautiful face. You caressed her back, trying to lull the crying girl as Gahyeon buried her face against your chest.

“It’s okay.” Gahyeon clenched her teeth and fists, took a handful of the backside of your shirt, and bit on the fabric her mouth was able to reach. She just kept crying without uttering a word. She just released what she was holding back inside of her. 

It broke your heart seeing her like this. You couldn’t do anything but caress her back and hope that it was enough to ease her pain. Several minutes passed and she wasn’t calming down. You kissed her forehead and she looked up to you.

“Do you love me?” Gahyeon asked, her eyes pleading for reassurance as they continuously stained her face with tears. You kissed her once again, but this time it wasn’t your lips and her forehead, it was her lips and yours colliding softly for a peck. She smiled brightly. You haven’t even said the words she wanted to hear, but her eyes already lit up as if she knew it was coming.

“I love you.” The words were finally uttered and it was all that was needed for Ghayeon to wrap her arms around your neck. Pull in. Let go. Hug it. Before you even knew it, your lips collided with hers once again. Close your eyes. She captured your lips and pulled you into a longing hungry kiss. Knots were tied, and two soft marshmallow muscles clashed, moving with the rhythm of her hunger.

She was a blackhole longing for love. It was scary how a woman in pain like her craved love like this. It wasn’t a sweep inside your mouth as she playfully tickled the underside of your tongue while exploring the depths only she could reach.

Gahyeon pulled out, caught her breath, and chased once again as she lured you. She started sucking on your tongue, and you gladly let her without any resistance. She pulled and sucked. She circled her tongue around yours.

Seconds passed by and the endless exchange between lips didn’t end. Seconds became minutes, and tears already stopped flowing, but the fervent kiss didn’t end there. It started with a peck and it ended up in a torrid kiss. Eyes closed and lips glued to each other. Her arms traveled around your neck while yours gently caressed her hair.

She pulled out and a string of saliva bridged the two of you. Her eyes still brimming with hunger as yours locked with her lovingly. She wanted more and you would gladly give anything for her. 

“Do you love me?” Gahyeon asked once again. This time you were the one to capture her lips and Gahyeon couldn’t help but smile while her lips were still connected to yours. Glide from her back to her lower hips as Gahyeon cupped your cheeks as she continued devouring you.

In one swoop motion, you lifted her off the ground, resulting in a momentary disconnection between the two of you. That didn’t matter though as she was quick to clash lips once again while you tried to excruciatingly navigate around the suite to get into the bedroom almost blindly. 

You had hit several corners. Topped down appliances and broke a few glasses before you found a counter to sit Gahyeon on. It wasn't the destination, but you soon would get there but for now.

She was laughing and smiling, you were in a crazy haze. You pulled back. Eyes locked as the playful hands grabbed onto the ends of her black dress. You didn't waste any moment as her porcelain skin revealed itself as you peeled that dress off her—from the tips of her toes, her luscious legs, toned stomach, and torso. A momentary break of eye contact as the garment blocked your sight of her.

Look up and down. Magnificence exuded as inch and every corner of her felt it was sculpted by a higher being itself. Her porcelain skin felt like clouds on your palm, and the way her body subtlety reacted… each touch shivers, each touch was electrifying.

Gahyeon wasn't one to just be the one almost on her birthday with only her matching black lingerie. She pulled you by the hand, grabbed your shirt, and didn't waste any moment to remove it. She ogled at you—it was a sight for her—it was the prize that was for hers alone.

“You’re mine,” Gahyeon said, asserting her ownership over you as she bit her lips, almost drolling while eyeing you. She didn't waste any more time as she pulled even closer for another make-out session—this time more athirst. Each feathery touch made her more hungry, intoxicated, and addicted. Kisses were her morphine—each one made her forget the pain and put her on a high.

“I’m yours.” You broke the kiss. You traveled from her lips to her left ear as you engulfed her for a hug. She wrapped her leg around your hips. The distance was small. It didn’t allow any wild movement, but that was okay, being able to see her gorgeous face up close was more than enough. This time she was smiling. You had only seen it through your peripheral vision, but her lips, her eyes, they both were happy.

“Shut up, carry me to the bed, and fuck me,” Gahyeon ordered. Giggles left your mouth as you gently carried her off the countertop table. She hugged you and nestled on your shoulders. She rested and relished once again taking advantage of the comfort of your warmth.

Soon you laid her down on the bed. While you caught your breath, you took a moment to once again look at the art in front of you. She wasn’t crying. Gahyeon was happy. She was anticipating. She was like a kid waiting for her request to be granted. You could stare at her all day, but her order, you needed it as much as she did.

You smirked at her as you unbuckled your pants and stripped down to your birthday suit. She smirked back and taunted you with her body. She didn’t have any intention to remove her lingerie. She wanted you to do it. Although fucking her with that sexy lingerie still on was still also an option, you wanted her to be as bare as you were—completely naked and vulnerable.

“Why are you so lazy?” You grabbed the hem of her black thong and tried to peel it off her. It was stubborn, and her ass held on to it. You lifted that peach ass of hers that she spent so much time in the gym to achieve for a moment just to get it off, began to slowly remove it off her lips, making its way down her smooth and slender porcelain legs, and revealed a treasure, her smooth, glistening pink lips.

You wanted a taste. You wanted to tease her. So you dove right into the treat in front of you. You started with kisses up and down her inner thighs, gaining soft moans while your lips repeatedly contacted her warm skin. You planted wet kisses on her thighs again, but this time dangerously near her wet folds.

“Just do it already.” Gahyeon was already squirming. She wanted it, and a lick down her thighs, staining her pristine thighs with long licks garnered even more moans. You giggled mischievously while she was getting more and more impatient, but before she could complain once again, the first lick came in, tracing her pink slit—one long sweet taste of her wet folds. 

Teasing her might have backfired as she grabbed onto your head, and pushed you in her legs forcibly, forcing you to continue eating her. You didn’t have any choice, buried in her crotch, you accepted your fate, and her delicious pussy. Explore every corner. Reach the deepest depths. You dove in to find out how deep your tongue could reach inside her. You basked and inhaled the aroma of her pussy. You didn’t let any of her juices pass your mouth. And Gahyeon took it all in, receiving all of it, moaning and expressing how pleasurable it was all.

You let your hot breath blow against her crotch, and she whined in response. Quickly, you went in with an up-and-down motion deep inside using your tongue. She cussed, she moaned, and she quivered as you continued eating her out.

“More!” She exclaimed as if that was the cue, you put pressure on her clit. You swirled around it, gaining louder and more high-pitched moans as you ran circular patterns on it. Push and swirl. You gently pushed it with your tongue, then took it in your mouth and sucked on her clit.

Her legs squished, and her nails dug in deeper and deeper as every second passed by. She pushed you deeper in hopes that your tongue would reach deeper inside her slits. It was getting harder to breathe as minutes went by. Your head was going numb from the pain from her nails digging. Her wet pussy almost drowned you. Buried against her crotch, all you could do was go crazy, trying to taste and service her as much as you can, sucking her wet and delicious pussy as you turned Gahyeon into a squirming mess.

The only option was to tap out. You forcibly disengaged, simultaneously edging her. It wasn’t time for her to reach her climax, and it wasn’t time yet for a death by thighs head locking you. You licked your lips and caught your breath. You smirked fully knowing what you did as you tenderly caressed her thighs while she pouted.

“What are you looking at?” You teasingly snarked at her, and she glared at you before you got on top of her. You weren’t one to keep her waiting when you just edged her. And just like any other time before and now, you lined the tip of your cock up against the opening of her entrance and captured her lips for a kiss as you pushed—slowly and caringly, entering her inch by inch smoothly inside of her already soaking wet quim.

Gahyeon hugged every bit of your cock. She was perfectly wet and perfectly tight every time, and it was always cute how she was also perfectly cute, innocent, and sexy at the same time. Sex with her had always been a mix of comfort and excitement. With Gahyeon you wouldn’t call it sex, it was the ever-cliched lovemaking.

You started fucking her, slowly, sensually, and carefully. It was different from how you teased her and edged. You pressed bodies, allowing each other to relish the warmth of each other. You let her feel you gravitating against her. Gahyeon had your weight on top of her and she had always loved it. It felt like the sun, warm on the skin, but it didn't burn. Sweaty and almost smelly but it felt cold and fresh to be so close to her. Again and again, like clockwork, you slowly pull your member out from her, but as soon as your tip peeked out of her, you bury yourself deep inside her, causing a melody of her pleasure getting fill up.

“I love you,” she uttered in between her moans.

Again, pull, and push.

“I love you too.”

Now that you had built a slow and steady rhythm, you gradually upped the pace. Faster but not so sudden. The goal was to induce pleasure and not pain, pushing in but within the comfort of your lover just as she loved as both of you became moaning messes—quick huffed breaths—sounds of sex only the two of you know of. The smell of sex, sweat, and saliva lingered in the air. Moans, squelching noises, profanities, proclamations of love, and chased breaths, roared inside that hotel room, accompanied by the warmth of each other.

You started pounding her, faster and more vigorously than before. Full of vigor but full of control. A little bit rough but Gahyeon wrapped her leg around your lips nonetheless, she wouldn’t want you breaking off her while you thrust and looked at her with the desire to pleasure her. Her eyes shut close and she became louder, screaming at the pleasure of your cock.

For Gahyeon this kind of physical intimacy was a form of assurance to ease her fear. Gahyeon feels your love the most when you two are connected. Sex is the highest form of love. Sex is the greatest expression of it. The heat she was relishing, the roughness, the gentleness, the pain, and the pleasure were evidence of love. 

It was a treasure how your palm caressed her cheek underneath all that mess. After all, she was a mess and you were a mess, but there was this certain kind of beauty and order amidst all of that and only you two knew of it—only your love knew of it.

There was no time for rest as you as that climax was coming. She didn’t want you to stop fucking, and you didn’t want to either. You fucked her hard and fast. It was a high that you knew too much of. A drug that was only available for you. A medicine that heals Gahyeon and you, but keeps you addicted. It was a contradiction, amidst all that high and intoxication, being lost in the trance of pleasure, you didn’t get lost and chased the pleasure for you alone. You chased her pleasure, and she chased your pleasure, aiming to please each other.

You found her breast, still clothed in her black brassiere. You squeezed and she whined in response and quickly tried to get rid of it, reaching for her straps and setting them aside before flipping them to expose her bountiful mounds. You dove right onto it, took her hardened nippled, and suck on it while massaging the other breast. It was softer than marshmallows, it was like you were kissed by a cloud.

However, you didn’t forget fucking her, you thrust as you sucked like a baby on Gahyeon’s breast. All Gahyeon could do was to receive all of it, and hug your head, hoping it would help you eat her better. 

It was time to give attention to the unattended boob. You removed yourself from her boob and left red marks all over her breasts, and a lingering feeling of stretch on her nipple, saliva all over it. You did the same to the other boob, suckles, bites, kisses, peck, smack, smooch, and snog, all the things you could to do to make her release those lovely sounds and to compel her to hug you more tightly and to enable yourself to feel her warmth more, get buried on her breast more.

Although you couldn’t give her boob as much attention at the one as she pulled you up for a momentary rest. You made eye contact with you and chased your breath. Get pulled by her brown orbs. The tips of her lips raised, showcasing her iconic fox smile. Her eyes were as dazed as yours, but she still gazed at you lovingly before uttering the words, “Kiss me.”

“I love you, Lee Gahyeon.” You gladly complied and dove right into kissing her. Gahyeon cupped your cheeks. It was an amorous kiss you shared. A kiss to last a lifetime. One of too many. Certainly not the last but you kissed her as if it was the last. It was as sweet as the first though. You slowed down your pace to allow yourself to relish it more, the way your cock stirred her insides, the it twitches after hitting her deepest parts every time, the way it filled her, the way her lips connect to yours, the way you fuck her while you two shared a loving kiss, and the way she loves you.

Soon a knot in your loins introduced itself to you. What she was chasing for you eventually came and without breaking the kiss of the movement of your hips. You felt a built-up in your groins as her quim clenched, and tightened around your cock. It was time for her too. She tightened her hug, nails dug into your back as you slammed deep inside and pulled her out again and again until you could no longer hold it another.

One last time for the last run, putting in all of your remaining stamina. You fucked like you had every intention to impregnate her. Both of you groan in great pleasure as you let loose to release wave after wave of your thick semen deep inside her while quivered, shut her eyes, bit your lips, and bucked her hips as her orgasm collided with you. An instant climax, and delight, with her plugged pussy leaking out juices that were mixed with her fluids yours.  Her orgasm was strong as all of that built up in her stomach released a wave of ecstasy.

The high felt like forever. The satisfaction was great. Both climaxes subsided and you felt your flaccid member slipping out of her, and her pussy finally unplugged, leaked out your cum. After a few seconds of being frozen in place, Gahyeon released your lip and you let out a sigh of relief before licking the blood off your lip. You collapsed beside her and she turned to face you and hugged you as she tried to recover from the hot session herself.

“I love you too.” Gahyeon gave you a peck, resulting in you blushing. Out of embarrassment you turned your back on her, stood up to get tissues and that thing, and hid it underneath the box of tissues. You went back to the bed and helped her wipe herself and lean off the leaking semen in between her legs. She was smiling mischievously as you wiped her as if she was planning to tease you. 

“Why are you acting shy? You’re wiping as if that’s not your cum and you didn’t just eat my pussy.” Her words made you choke and she just laughed heartily. Gahyeon was back to her usual self—cheerful and teasing master. 

“I’m not, I’m just thinking about how much I love you.”

You reasoned out. It was far from what she said, but it was the truth. Looking back to all that happened, you couldn’t help but just be happy and relief that you ended up this way. It might be just a hunch but it felt like things would finally get better from here on. It was a little bit chaotic but you finally settled it with SuA. You didn’t choose Gahyeon instead of SuA. You just love Gahyeon and there wasn’t even a competition. What happened with SuA and your feelings for her won’t be forgotten, but it was a lesson. A lesson you would take as you journey with Gahyeon.

Gahyeon is love.

“Why do you have to think about that when you just have to show me?” Gahyeon gazed at you. Her eyes were full of expectation. She was looking far ahead. Looking at the things you two will do from now on. You were looking forward to it too. Gahyeon is the loveliest girl and she isn’t one to hide her love. You just hope to be more like her, and be more confident of your love for her.

“Yes, I’ll do that from now on,” You answered her. You took her hand and smiled at her lovingly. Love was truly bare. Your feelings were as bare as your naked bodies as both of you wore your hearts out. And looking at her, you knew it was time. 

You took her left hand and kissed it. Gahyeon just smiled, not suspicious of anything as you reached for the ring you had hidden earlier. Gahyeon just watched. Her eyes showed a hint of confusion. You just continued smiling. Although, maybe there was a hint of nervousness and awkwardness.

“Gahyeon…” You call for her before kissing your fist, still not revealing the ring you had inside it. At this point, Gahyeon already had an idea of what was happening. Tears formed in her eyes with the anticipation of it. And she was right as you revealed the ring. Her mouth kept agape, surprised, and couldn’t believe what was about to happen. Gahyeon’s puppy eyes were both in shock and filled with bliss. 

It felt like your heart was about to burst out of nervousness. Will she say yes? Will she decline? Those questions played in your head on repeat as you held the ring tightly. It was an expensive ring or anything that could put a hole in your pockets, but it was something more important. The heirloom ring from your mother. An old piece of gold jewelry with a humble diamond.

“Will you marry me?” You finally asked her and beads of clear crystal started flowing down her beautiful face. You let of her hand and wipe them off.

“Stop crying will you?” You said to her but you started crying also. With the ring, you imagined dreams of seeing her in that white dress, walking down the aisle while you wait for her at the altar. You’ll spend time off for a vacation, a honeymoon on the beachside—you know how much Gahyeon loves the beach. Maybe even starting your own family.

Fingers fidget, and hearts boomed. Time slowed down at that moment in that hotel room. You panicked and weren’t sure if you would wipe her tears first or wipe yours first, but you opted for a third option. You took her left hand once again, and carefully put the ring on her finger.

“Yes, I will marry you!” Gahyeon didn’t stop crying, but she didn’t seem sad at all. The smile painted all over her face said it all, and seeing that made you feel warm inside. It was burning, but it didn’t hurt at all. Neither of you stopped crying but it was okay. 

It was a beautiful moment to share. She hugged you tightly, and you reciprocated until you found yourself sharing a kiss. A lovely kiss. Then once again locked eyes, gazing at each other, ever smiling and happy.

Her smile was beautiful. Her happiness was the most beautiful thing to exist. And you’ll do anything to protect that.

Yes, just like that day.

That one cold winter night.

We were out late because of a schoolwork project. The other kids had already gone home and were the only ones to go in the same direction so we walked together. Well, I wouldn’t let a girl walk home that late at night.

We were walking and at that time, we weren’t particularly close or friends yet.

But we ended up talking.

You talked about your dreams. And I talked about mine.

It was just fun.

And maybe,

That was when I started developing something for you.

Well, I realized too late that it was love.

But maybe at that moment, I fell in love with you unknowingly.

All of you were just too beautiful.

The moon bore witness to it.

Your laughs.

Your smile.

Your eyes.

Your dream.

Your everything.

That was when Jasmines bloomed in winter.

Aletheia & Etterath

*Series End*

***

A/N - idk did I do something? i think it's bad HAHAHAH

[reidmarieprentiss]

Lost in Translation: Part Three

Summary: Derek sets up a meeting for you and Spencer. Old feelings resurface.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, mild angst

Warnings/Includes: insecurities, discussions of past issues

Word count: 7.2k

a/n: this took me so long my loves im sorrryyyyy i have been experiencing the worst writers block ever and i just keep starting stories and not finishing

main masterlist prologue part one part two part four

After another long day at work, Spencer found himself seeking out Derek again, the weight of everything gnawing at him more than he could handle. He caught Derek just as he was about to leave for the night, his anxiety written all over his face. 

"Derek," Spencer called out, his voice tentative, eyes darting around nervously.

Derek turned around, noticing the tension in Spencer's frame. He sighed quietly, already knowing what this was about. "What’s up, Reid?"

Spencer hesitated for a moment before asking, “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

Derek paused, weighing his response carefully. He crossed his arms, his face thoughtful but firm. "Honestly, man, I don’t know. She’s hurt, and it's not something that’s going to just disappear overnight."

Spencer's shoulders slumped, the frustration and guilt heavy in his voice as he mumbled, “I messed up so badly. I don’t even know if she’ll ever be able to look at me the same way.”

Derek shook his head slowly. "Look, it’s not gonna happen overnight, and maybe not even for a long time. You have to be patient, Spencer. Respect her space, her boundaries. If she’s ready to talk, she’ll come to you. But you can’t force this."

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling with his emotions. "I just... I wish I could fix it. I hate knowing I hurt her like that."

Derek softened, his tone a little gentler now. "I get it. And I know you want to make things right. But sometimes, you just have to give people the time they need. If she’s ready to forgive, she’ll let you know. But right now? Just focus on being there if and when she’s ready."

Spencer nodded slowly, absorbing Derek's words. It wasn’t the answer he’d been hoping for, but he knew deep down that Derek was right. All he could do now was wait, as painful as that was.

"Thanks, Derek," Spencer muttered after a long pause.

Derek clapped him on the shoulder, offering a small, supportive smile. "Hang in there, kid. Just be patient."

—

You were at the grocery store, minding your own business, pushing your cart down the aisle and scanning the shelves for the brand of pasta you always bought. You spotted it, way up on the top shelf, and sighed, stretching up on your toes but still coming up short. Typical.

Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. "Need some help with that?" came a familiar voice, and your heart skipped a beat. You turned to see Spencer standing there, his expression somewhere between awkward and hopeful.

For a split second, you froze. The last thing you expected was to run into him again, and here, of all places. But you managed a polite smile and nodded, stepping aside as Spencer easily reached up and grabbed the pasta from the top shelf. 

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to you. His fingers brushed yours for the briefest of moments, and you felt a rush of memories flood back, but you quickly pulled your hand away, holding the pasta against your chest like it was some sort of shield.

"Thanks," you mumbled, trying to avoid making eye contact. 

Spencer stood there, clearly waiting for the moment to stretch into something more, but you couldn’t handle it—not here, not now. 

“Well, um, I should keep going," you said, your voice a little too quick, too tight. "I’ve got a lot to get through." 

Spencer opened his mouth, probably to try and start a conversation, but you were already stepping past him. “See you around,” you added quickly, pushing your cart down the aisle, the tension thick between you.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. But as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel Spencer’s eyes on you, the weight of everything unsaid lingering in the air.

After the grocery store run-in, you'd reached your breaking point. It wasn’t just Spencer showing up again; it was how seeing him churned up feelings you thought you’d buried deep. The confusion, the anger, the unresolved emotions—it was all too much. You’d tried to brush it off, to pretend like it didn’t affect you, but every time Spencer popped back into your life, those old wounds opened up again.

Derek noticed. He always did. He was the one who sat with you in silence after the grocery store encounter, watching as you pretended like everything was fine. Finally, he leaned forward, his voice gentle but firm. "Y/N, I can see it. You're not okay."

You swallowed, staring down at your coffee, fingers trembling slightly around the warm mug. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Derek,” you murmured, your voice low.

“It’s not about what I want you to say,” Derek replied softly. “It’s about what you need. You keep running into Spencer, and every time it’s eating you alive.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. You could feel it—each encounter was a reminder of the pain you’d carried for so long, and it was getting harder and harder to keep pretending like you were fine.

Derek paused for a moment, his voice softening even more. “You need to figure out what’s gonna help you heal, Y/N. You’ve been holding onto this for too long.”

That statement hit you like a punch to the gut. Healing. You hadn’t thought much about that—not really. You’d just been trying to ignore the past, trying to move forward without looking back. But now? Now it felt like you couldn’t move on until you faced it head-on.

After a long silence, you finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to talk to him.”

Derek looked up, surprised, but he didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue.

You took a deep breath, the words tumbling out as you finally admitted the truth to yourself. “I need to talk to Spencer. Not to... forgive him, but to get closure. To... figure out what I need.”

Derek nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Okay. I can help with that. We’ll do it on your terms. No surprises.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Derek gave you a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll arrange it. My place, no interruptions, just you and him. Whenever you’re ready.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like you were taking control of your own story, and while the idea of facing Spencer still terrified you, there was a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d finally get the answers—and the closure—you needed.

—

Derek had set the scene, arranging a cozy dinner at his place that looked almost like the setup for a romantic date, with warm lighting, neatly set plates, and a few candles casting a soft glow over the room. Spencer arrived first, his nerves evident as he fidgeted with the buttons on his blazer, glancing around the room with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

Seeing Spencer’s anxious expression, Derek couldn’t resist a grin. “Damn, pretty boy! You clean up nice,” he teased, giving Spencer an approving once-over and a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Spencer tried to smile, though his eyes were still a little distant, the weight of the evening pressing down on him. “I don’t know, Derek… Do you really think this is going to go well?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Derek squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Hey, you’re here, looking sharp, and ready to try. That’s all you can do, man. Just be honest, listen to what she has to say, and let the rest work itself out.” 

Spencer took a deep breath, nodding as he let Derek’s words settle over him, finding a small measure of calm amidst the swirling thoughts in his mind.

The two men spent their time waiting for you chatting, though Spencer’s nerves were evident in every glance he threw toward the door, each sound making him sit a little straighter, tighten his grip on his glass, and shift in his seat. Derek watched him with an amused grin, offering the occasional reassuring word, but knowing full well that Spencer was a bundle of tension no pep talk could completely unwind.

Then, the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock filled the quiet room. Spencer’s hand stilled on the glass as he took a deep, steadying breath. Derek chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Showtime,” he whispered, patting Spencer on the back just as you stepped through the door.

When Spencer looked up, the breath he’d taken seemed pointless. It left him in one swift, stunned exhale as he took in the sight of you. You looked radiant, your hair framing your face perfectly, your outfit both effortlessly chic and undeniably stunning. The way you carried yourself, that familiar confidence mingling with a hint of surprise as your eyes met his, left Spencer utterly captivated. He couldn't have said a word if he tried.

Derek, noticing the silent awe, cleared his throat with a playful smirk. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” he said, slipping out of the room, though not before giving Spencer an encouraging nod.

"Hi," Spencer breathed, his voice soft but full of emotion, his eyes drinking you in like he’d never seen you before.

"Hello, Spencer," you replied with a shy smile, your cheeks already feeling warm under his gaze. There was a hint of nervousness in your expression, but the familiarity between you two softened it into something almost tender.

“You look… beautiful,” he said, the words tumbling out with a raw sincerity that caught you off guard.

"Thank you," you murmured, your cheeks deepening in color as you smiled. "And you… well, you look quite dapper."

A surprised laugh escaped Spencer, his eyes lighting up. "Dapper? I don’t think I’ve ever been called that," he chuckled, a bit of his earlier tension melting away.

You found yourself laughing softly too, the moment pulling both of you into that easy rhythm you’d shared once upon a time. The atmosphere around you shifted, the laughter a small but hopeful bridge over the wide, silent gap of everything left unsaid between you.

After the tentative laughter fades, there’s a moment of quiet between you and Spencer, heavy with unsaid words. You both know why you’re here, but neither seems quite ready to dive into the painful conversation waiting in the wings. 

Spencer fidgets for a moment, his fingers running along the edge of the table. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before looking up to meet your gaze.

"I know you don’t owe me anything," he begins, his voice unsteady but sincere. "But I want to say… I’m sorry. Truly, deeply sorry. For everything.”

You nod slowly, allowing him to continue, your expression guarded but open, ready to finally hear him out.

“I was… I was scared,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “Back then, I thought that if I left first, I could protect myself. But in doing that, I hurt you in ways I can’t ever take back.”

“But why? Why were you scared? And what were you protecting yourself from?” You asked hesitantly, scared of his answer but needing to know. “Me?”

Spencer swallowed hard, your question piercing through the fragile wall he’d built around his emotions. He looked down, his fingers twitching as they brushed over the edge of his glass, his voice barely steady. “Not from you,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Never from you. But… from what I felt for you.”

He met your gaze, the vulnerability in his eyes startling and raw. “I wasn’t used to feeling that way, to… wanting something so much. I’d spent so much of my life being alone, thinking that maybe I didn’t need anyone, or rather, didn’t deserve anyone. But then… then you showed up, and everything I thought I knew didn’t make sense anymore.”

You felt a pang in your chest, hearing him admit it out loud. It was the answer you’d suspected, maybe even hoped for, but it didn’t ease the hurt. “So, instead of letting yourself feel, you chose to leave. Just like that?”

Spencer winced, the guilt etching deeper lines into his face. “I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing. That if I left, I’d spare us both—” He cut himself off, his voice trembling as he realized the selfishness in his own logic. “But I was wrong. I see that now. I see that every time I remember you, every time I think of the life I could’ve had with you if I’d just… if I’d just been braver.”

You take a breath, letting his words settle. There’s a part of you that wants to lash out, to ask why he thought his fear was more important than you. But instead, you just say, “I never understood why. I thought… I thought I’d done something wrong.”

Spencer’s face twists with regret. “No,” he says emphatically. “You did nothing wrong. You were kind, and patient, and everything I didn’t think I deserved. I was selfish and... immature, and I ran because I couldn’t handle what I felt for you. Because… everyone who had come before you left me. And I couldn’t stand the thought of you doing the same, I–I had to be the one to do the leaving.”

There’s a long pause as you both let the weight of the past sink in, the air between you thick with the echoes of everything that once was.

You took a shaky breath, absorbing his words, letting them wash over you like a bittersweet balm. The hurt still pulsed beneath the surface, but Spencer’s admission was a kind of validation—a small relief in knowing that he hadn’t left because of anything you’d done, but rather because of his own fears, his own pain. You could see it now, the scars of his past, etched into his expression as he looked at you, vulnerable and exposed.

“Spencer,” you murmured softly, searching his face, “you didn’t have to protect yourself from me. I would’ve stayed. I wanted you to stay.”

He closed his eyes briefly, as if the words stung, and when he opened them again, they were glassy with unshed tears. “I know that now,” he said, his voice a whisper filled with remorse. “And I hate that I wasn’t strong enough to believe it back then. I took the easy way out, and in doing that, I lost the best thing that ever happened to me.”

A lump formed in your throat as you considered everything he’d just laid bare. Part of you wanted to let that resentment simmer, to guard yourself, to keep holding him at a distance so he couldn’t hurt you again. But another part of you, the part that still remembered the warmth in his smile and the kindness in his eyes, wanted to believe that maybe this time, he was telling the truth. Maybe this time, he was ready to face his fears instead of running from them.

Finally, you nodded, your voice soft but steady. “Spencer, I don’t know if I can just forget everything that happened, or if we can ever go back to what we were.” You paused, swallowing the last remnants of bitterness in your throat. “But… I think I’m willing to see who we can be now… as friends.”

His face brightened, the relief evident as he let out a small, shaky breath, nodding fervently. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me even the smallest chance. I swear, I won’t take it for granted this time. I would love to be your friend again.”

Spencer’s words hung in the air between you, sincere and hopeful, filling the room with a kind of warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time. You watched as he visibly relaxed, the tension in his shoulders easing, the lines of worry on his face softening. He looked like he’d been holding his breath for years, and now, finally, he could breathe again.

You offered a tentative smile, feeling some of the weight lift from your own heart as well. “Good. Friends, then,” you said, letting the words settle, hoping they would feel real in time. It was a start—a cautious, careful start—and maybe that was all either of you could ask for right now.

Spencer reached for his glass, lifting it with a small, almost shy grin. “To friendship?”

You hesitated for just a second before picking up your own glass, meeting his gaze with a nod. “To friendship,” you echoed, clinking your glass gently against his.

For a moment, you both just sipped in silence, the atmosphere lighter, yet still laced with the unspoken acknowledgment of everything you’d been through to get to this point. But now there was something else too—a tentative trust, a fragile understanding, and a sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could both find a way forward. 

After a while, Spencer glanced at you with a soft smile. “So… does this mean I get to hear all about what’s been going on in your life? I feel like I’ve missed so much.”

You laughed, the sound coming easier now. “Maybe. But only if you tell me about yours. I imagine it’s been… eventful?”

Spencer chuckled, nodding. “Eventful is an understatement.” His smile grew, and you could see in his eyes a quiet gratitude—a promise, almost—that he wouldn’t let this new chance slip away.

And as the two of you fell into a familiar rhythm of conversation, it felt like the beginning of something healing, something honest—a friendship, perhaps, but one built on something much deeper, with a foundation strong enough to weather the past.

During the meal Derek set up, Spencer’s face lit up as he leaned in, his eyes sparkling with amusement and mild embarrassment. “So, picture this,” he began, already chuckling. “It’s my first day at the Bureau, and I’m nervous, right? I mean, I was 22, fresh out of college, and suddenly surrounded by all these experienced agents. And then, in walks Derek.”

You laughed, already picturing Derek’s confident stride, imagining him sizing up a much younger, slightly awkward Spencer.

“He takes one look at me,” Spencer continued, shaking his head, “and smirks like he’s just seen the nerdiest kid to ever walk through the doors of the FBI. I’m there, clutching a giant stack of files and notebooks, and he comes right up to me, flashing that classic Derek grin, and goes, ‘Hey, kid, did you get lost on a field trip?’”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth as you imagined Spencer’s face at that moment. “No! He didn’t!”

“Oh, he did,” Spencer said, eyes widening with mock indignation, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “And it didn’t stop there. He called me ‘pretty boy’ and ‘kid’ within the first five minutes and has never stopped since.”

You shook your head, still laughing, picturing young Spencer being tossed right into Derek’s playful antics from the get-go. “I can totally see it. Poor you. And let me guess, you had no idea how to respond?”

“Absolutely none,” he replied, grinning sheepishly. “I just kind of blinked at him and stammered something about already having a map of the building… which only made him laugh harder.”

The two of you dissolved into giggles, your laughter filling the room as Spencer recounted more of his awkward encounters from that first day, each story making you laugh harder than the last. You felt a warmth spreading in your chest, the weight of the past slowly giving way to the simple joy of sharing these small moments together again.

Spencer’s eyes were already wide with anticipation as you leaned in this time, grinning with a story of your own. “Okay, the craziest job I have ever been on?,” you pondered Spencer’s question, setting the scene with a dramatic flourish. “A couple of months ago, I was hired to redo this guy’s entire downstairs ‘mancave’—you know, dark leather couches, endless sports memorabilia, a bar in the corner. The whole place just screamed midlife crisis.”

Spencer chuckled, leaning forward, clearly captivated. “Alright, I’m with you. Go on.”

“So, I’m there working, measuring walls, trying to envision the space,” you continued, “and the husband, who hired me, starts getting… a little too friendly. Like, way too friendly. He’s making these cheesy comments, trying to act all smooth, and I’m just politely nodding, desperately trying to get my work done without engaging.”

“Oh no,” Spencer said, shaking his head with a mix of laughter and disbelief. “And where was his wife during all this?”

“That’s the thing,” you said, leaning in closer, your eyes alight with excitement. “Right as he’s leaning over my shoulder, trying to impress me with some ‘fun fact’ about his baseball collection, his wife walks in. She takes one look at the situation—him practically draped over me like some tacky velvet blanket—and loses it.”

Spencer covered his mouth, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “You’re kidding!”

“Nope!” you laughed, savoring the memory. “She immediately tells me I’m fired—screaming at him, at me, at the whole mancave situation. I barely manage to grab my things and escape before things get even more awkward.”

Spencer’s eyes widened even more. “That’s insane! Did you still get paid?”

“Well, here’s the best part,” you said, grinning mischievously. “A few weeks later, I get a call. It’s her! She’s left him, found herself a nice little apartment across town, and wants to hire me again to redecorate her entire new place. She said, and I quote, ‘Let’s make this space reflect the woman I’m becoming. Classy, strong, and with no sign of men.’”

Spencer laughed so hard he had to catch his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s incredible. I can’t believe she rehired you after all of that!”

“Oh, trust me,” you said, still giggling. “It’s a project I will never forget. That apartment is full of plants, bright colors, and bookshelves—and not a single ‘mancave’ element in sight.”

Spencer chuckled, his gaze soft and warm, but beneath the smile was a glint of curiosity and a hunger for more. There was so much he wanted to ask, so many gaps in the last six years he yearned to fill in. 

“So, uh, how was the rest of your undergrad?” he ventured, his voice carrying a hint of the awkwardness he couldn’t quite shake. He’d been dancing around the question, unsure of where to begin.

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to keep things light. “Well, it was definitely boring without my favorite study buddy,” you teased, a playful smirk forming. “And, from what I heard, the rest of the students were utterly lost without their... shall we say, ‘nefarious professor?’”

Spencer groaned, instantly covering his face with his hands, his cheeks turning a noticeable shade of pink. “Oh god, you knew about that?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your laughter but failing as a small giggle escaped. “Your reputation precedes you, Professor.”

He peeked out from behind his hands, a mix of embarrassment and humor on his face. “I swear, I was young and stupid,” he mumbled, shaking his head with a self-deprecating smile. 

“Oh, I’m sure,” you laughed, but as the sound faded, your face softened, a more serious expression settling in. “That’s, uh… actually why I never made a move back then.”

“Oh,” Spencer murmured, the weight of the truth sinking in as he glanced down. He understood what you meant—that lingering fear you’d had, that you’d just be another one of his temporary flings, another notch in his belt. He sighed, regret lacing his voice. “That’s… that’s also why I never made a move.”

“Oh,” you echoed, the realization settling over both of you like a bittersweet memory, so many missed chances hanging between you.

You sat in silence for a moment, each of you processing the weight of that mutual hesitation, the missed opportunities. Spencer reached for his cup, taking a small sip before he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. “I’m sorry for all of it. For making you feel like you couldn’t… that you weren’t different.”

You nodded slowly, offering him a small, understanding smile. “I know, Spencer. I know you didn’t mean for it to be that way. I think we were both just… scared.”

He smiled back, his gaze warm and grateful, the unspoken hope that maybe, just maybe, things could finally be different lingering in the air between you.

—

It had been a week since you and Spencer shared that dinner, and neither of you had been able to shake the lingering thoughts of each other. The quiet moments of laughter, the shared memories, and the glimmers of connection that you thought had faded—all of it kept replaying in your minds.

For you, it was a mix of nostalgia and something new altogether. Every time you caught yourself thinking of him, you were reminded of the sweetness that had initially drawn you to him all those years ago. Despite everything, he was still that kind, brilliant, and awkwardly charming man you’d fallen for. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that the qualities you had admired in him hadn’t changed—they were still very much a part of who he was.

For Spencer, the realization was even more profound. That evening had reawakened everything he had tried so hard to suppress. He found himself smiling at random moments, remembering your laugh, the way your eyes crinkled when you were amused, the ease with which you teased him. He’d always known he loved you, but after spending time with you again, he knew it with even more certainty. The essence of you—the parts of you that made him fall in love in the first place—were still there, and he wanted more than ever to be a part of your life.

Every time his phone buzzed, he felt a pang of hope, wondering if maybe it was you. Maybe you had gotten his number from Derek, maybe you looked him up. He debated asking Derek for your number and texting you just to say hello, but he held back, not wanting to push or ruin whatever tentative peace had grown between you both. Still, he couldn’t stop the quiet, enduring hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a future for you two.

Two weeks of silence had worn Spencer down to the point where he couldn’t hold back any longer. He found Derek by the copier, filling the quiet hum of the office with the one question that had been gnawing at him.

"Derek, has Y/N said anything about... the dinner?" Spencer’s voice was hesitant, his words laced with a mix of hope and nerves.

Derek chuckled, barely pausing as he fed another document into the copier. “Yeah, man, she said she had a great time.”

Spencer’s heart leaped, but the thrill was short-lived. "But she hasn’t reached out... do you think she's waiting for me to contact her first?" His words came out in a rush, almost pleading.

Derek turned, his expression shifting to one of mild confusion. “What? No, kid,” he shook his head, looking at Spencer like he was missing the obvious. “Y/N told me you two agreed to be friends. She’s not playing games. If you want her number, just ask her for it next time you see her.”

Spencer nodded slowly, absorbing Derek's words, but a hollow feeling lingered. Friends. It was supposed to feel like a step forward, but instead, he felt more uncertain than ever. Was she thinking about him, wondering about the possibilities, or had her life simply moved on while he was here, caught in a web of memories and what-ifs? The thought weighed on him as he returned to his desk, wondering if he’d ever get the courage to ask for more than just friendship.

Derek clapped a reassuring hand on Spencer’s shoulder, giving him a grin that held both pride and encouragement. "But hey," he said, his voice warm and steady, "I'm proud of you, kid. Sounds like you killed it. Y/N was singing your praises afterward."

Spencer’s eyes widened a little, a spark of hope igniting at Derek’s words. "She... she was?"

"Yeah," Derek chuckled, nodding. "Said you were charming, funny—even used the word 'dapper,' I think," he added with a smirk.

Spencer couldn’t help but let a small, pleased smile tug at the corners of his mouth. The knot of worry in his chest loosened just a bit. Knowing that you had spoken well of him, that you’d enjoyed the time together, made him feel like maybe, just maybe, this new beginning wasn’t such a long shot after all. 

“Thanks, Derek,” he murmured, his voice a little softer, the gratitude evident in his gaze. 

“Anytime, man,” Derek said, giving his shoulder a final pat. "Just keep being yourself. That’s the guy she was talking about."

—

Spencer’s patience was wearing thin. It had been weeks without a word, and he couldn’t shake the thought that friends should talk more often than this, right? The silence gnawed at him, pushing him to take a chance. After a moment of hesitation, he sought out Penelope to get your number.

With his heart pounding, he carefully typed out the message, fingers hovering over the screen before he finally hit send.

Hi, this is Spencer Reid. I hope it’s alright that I’m reaching out. I was wondering if you’d like to grab a coffee this weekend? Take care.

He stared at the screen for a moment, feeling the weight of vulnerability in those words, hoping he hadn’t overstepped but needing to take the swing. Now, all he could do was wait and hope you’d respond.

I'm sorry… who is this? you typed back, unable to resist a playful grin as you sent it. Then, before he could panic, you quickly added.

I only know a Professor Reid. But if you know him, could you tell him I would love to get coffee with him?

You hit send, giggling to yourself, picturing the look on his face when he read your teasing reply.

Spencer’s heart nearly stopped when he saw your response. For a split second, panic coursed through him, wondering if he’d gotten the wrong number. But then, as he read further, a grin broke across his face, and he shook his head, chuckling to himself. You hadn’t changed one bit.

Ah, I see you’re familiar with my more… scholarly persona. I’ll be sure to pass along the message to Professor Reid. He’ll be delighted to know you’re interested in coffee. Saturday at noon work for you?

As he hit send, he could already picture you laughing on the other end, and for the first time in weeks, the anticipation didn’t feel so heavy—it felt exciting.

—

You kept telling yourself this was just coffee. You’d agreed to be friends, and you were determined to honor that. But as you got ready, meticulously adjusting every detail of your outfit—a chic matching top and bottoms paired with Doc Martins—you couldn’t ignore the flutter in your chest. Deep down, you knew that with Spencer, the feelings you harbored were anything but platonic.

When you arrived at the coffee shop Spencer had chosen, you realized you’d never been there before. The place was an eclectic mix of books and cozy seating, and the scent of old paper mingled with freshly brewed coffee. It was the perfect spot for Spencer, practically radiating his energy, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling like an 18-year-old college girl all over again, swooning over the man with his nose buried in a book.

As you approached, you took a moment to admire him. Spencer looked effortlessly dapper in a dark blazer over a burgundy sweater and dress shirt, his usual disheveled curls slightly tamed but still charmingly unruly. The sight of him made you feel breathless, as if no time had passed since those days in the library.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you asked with a grin, echoing the very first words he had spoken to you all those years ago.

Spencer looked up, his eyes lighting up as he recognized the callback. “Of course, go ahead,” he replied, his voice warm with shared memories.

You giggled as you sat down. “What are you reading?” you asked, genuinely curious but also trying to ground yourself in casual conversation.

Spencer turned the book toward you, revealing the cover. To your surprise and delight, it was one of your favorite novels. “Good choice,” you grinned, giving him an approving nod.

Noticing his lack of coffee, you raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to order you something when I go up?” you offered.

He shook his head, a shy smile playing on his lips. “I, uh, already ordered for us. They’re going to bring it to the table when it’s ready.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “What did you get?”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed, his expression sheepish. “Your regular... you know, from back in the day.”

“You remember?” You couldn’t help the slight blush creeping onto your cheeks, touched by the thoughtfulness of it.

“Eidetic memory,” he shrugged with a small smile, “but I’d remember it regardless.”

Before you could say more, the waiter arrived with your drinks. Spencer smiled in recognition. “Thanks, Andy,” he said, clearly a regular here.

“No problem, Dr. Reid,” Andy replied with a friendly grin. They glanced at you with a hint of mischief. “And who is this beautiful lady you have with you today?”

Spencer’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as he fumbled for words, but you chuckled, stepping in with a playful smile. “Just an old friend,” you said, giving Spencer a teasing look.

“Well, if you’re just a friend…” Andy grinned, a glint of charm in their eyes. “Could I get your number?” they asked, leaning in with a playful smirk.

You saw Spencer tense across from you, his expression a blend of flustered annoyance and barely concealed jealousy. His jaw tightened slightly as he tried to keep his cool, but the look in his eyes was unmistakable. 

“Um, su–sure,” you replied, holding back a grin as you took the napkin Andy handed you and scribbled your number on it. You probably wouldn’t text them back, but the idea of Spencer squirming just a little was too tempting to resist.

As Andy walked away with a wink, you turned to find Spencer still watching, his lips pursed and a faint pink coloring his cheeks. He fiddled with his cup, glancing down, then back at you, clearly trying to play it cool but not quite succeeding.

“Making friends, are we?” he asked, a playful edge in his voice, though the slight edge of jealousy was hard to miss.

You gave him a sweet, innocent smile. “What? I thought we were just friends,” you teased, raising your cup to your lips and taking a slow sip.

Spencer’s lips quirked up in a reluctant smile, his eyes softening as he watched you. “Touché,” he murmured, unable to hide his amusement—or, perhaps, his relief that you were still here, sharing this moment with him.

Spencer leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, a spark of newfound confidence in his eyes that you hadn’t seen back in your college days. He tilted his head slightly, studying you with an intensity that made your cheeks warm.

“So, you’re giving out your number to just anyone now, huh?” he asked, his voice laced with a teasing tone. His eyes never left yours, the hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

You let out a small laugh, trying to brush off the heat rising to your face. “What? I’m allowed to have friends,” you replied, aiming for casual but knowing you were failing miserably under his gaze.

“Friends…” he mused, his eyes drifting down to the way your fingers fidgeted with your cup. “That’s interesting, because I don’t remember you ever giving me your number back in college.”

The implication in his words sent a rush of butterflies through you. You tried to keep your composure, but the way he was looking at you—with that quiet, calculated confidence—made it impossible.

“Maybe you didn’t ask,” you countered, raising an eyebrow in challenge, though you felt your own heartbeat quicken at his proximity.

Spencer leaned in even closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, maybe I’m asking now.” His voice was soft, his gaze lingering on your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes. He was clearly enjoying this, watching you get flustered in a way he’d never seen before.

You opened your mouth to respond but found yourself momentarily speechless. This wasn’t the Spencer you remembered—he was more self-assured, and the way he was looking at you made it clear that he wasn’t the same shy, awkward boy from college. You couldn’t help but glance down at his hand on the table, inches away from yours, and you felt the urge to close that gap.

He seemed to notice where your gaze had drifted, and his fingers brushed yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “So,” he said, his tone lower, almost daring, “if I asked for your number now, would I have to compete with Andy for your attention?”

You managed a breathless laugh, feeling your face heat up. “You clearly already got it from somewhere, but I think… maybe I could make an exception for you,” you replied, trying to match his confidence but failing as your voice wavered slightly.

Spencer’s smile widened, clearly pleased with himself. “Good,” he murmured, his thumb grazing the back of your hand for just a moment longer before he finally leaned back in his chair, giving you a little space to breathe.

But that look in his eyes remained, a silent promise that he wasn’t done teasing you just yet.

As the coffee moment faded, Spencer looked down at his cup, gathering his thoughts before asking the question that had been lingering in the back of his mind. He glanced up at you, a little hesitant but determined, his gaze soft yet intense.

“So… have you, um, been seeing anyone?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual but failing as his voice took on a hint of vulnerability.

The question surprised you, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to mask his curiosity. You met his eyes, shrugging slightly as you considered how to answer. “Not really. I’ve gone on a few dates here and there, but… nothing serious. No one really stuck, you know?”

Spencer's shoulders visibly relaxed, and he nodded, a small, almost relieved smile appearing on his lips. “Yeah, I get that,” he replied, his voice soft, as though he was processing your words.

You tilted your head, curiosity getting the better of you. “What about you, Spencer? Anyone special?”

He shook his head, a slight flush creeping up his neck. “No, not really. There were a few… attempts, well more like one I guess, but nothing meaningful. I think—” He hesitated, his eyes flicking back to yours, more serious now. “I think I was always… comparing them. To you.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. His confession hung in the air between you, as heavy as it was tender, and you felt the warmth of his words settle into your chest.

“Spencer…” you began softly, not sure if you wanted to press further or just let the moment be.

He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat but not breaking eye contact. “I don’t mean to make things uncomfortable,” he added quickly, a little nervous laugh escaping. “I just… I don’t think anyone else ever really understood me the way you did. And I don’t know if anyone ever will.”

Your gaze softened, and without thinking, you reached across the table, letting your hand rest gently over his. “Spencer, I… I understand.” You could feel his fingers tense slightly under your touch before he relaxed, his hand turning just enough to hold yours back.

Neither of you spoke, but the quiet admission in his words, in the shared look between you, seemed to bridge the gap that had been lingering all these years. This wasn’t about the past, and it wasn’t about unfinished business—it was about the connection you both still felt, and maybe even the hope that there was more to come.

The silence stretched, not awkward but full, as if both of you were finally coming to terms with what had always been there, waiting. Spencer’s thumb brushed against the back of your hand, his gaze lingering on your intertwined fingers.

“Do you think… we could try again?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

Spencer’s face fell as your words hit him, the gentle hope in his expression dissolving into something more resigned, almost apologetic. “Spencer… no,” you said softly, each word a mixture of reluctance and finality. You took a steadying breath. “Or—I don’t know. We’ve only just started being friends again, and I need you to respect that.”

As you stood, gathering your bag, the emotions bubbling up inside were too much to process here. The vulnerability, the confusion, the lingering affection—all of it weighed too heavily. You needed space, a moment to breathe away from him and the swirl of old feelings coming to life.

“I need to go,” you murmured, almost to yourself. Then, louder, “I’m sorry.”

Spencer shot to his feet, reaching out as if he might stop you, his voice strained with a sudden desperation. “Y/N! Wait—please!”

But you couldn’t bear to look back, not with the uncertainty clouding your heart. You turned and made your way out of the café, each step feeling heavier than the last, his words echoing in your mind even as you slipped through the door and out into the open air.

Spencer’s heart broke as he watched you leave, the door chiming softly behind you as you stepped out of the coffee shop. He remained seated, staring at the spot where you’d been, his heart sinking with regret and longing. He’d overstepped, pushed too soon, and he knew it. The rush of seeing you again, the glimmer of hope, had clouded his judgment.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, berating himself for his impatience. He’d waited years, and yet he couldn’t manage a few more months to let you feel comfortable, to let things develop naturally. All the lessons he thought he’d learned, the promises he’d made to himself to be careful, had crumbled the moment he was alone with you.

Taking a deep breath, he rose from his seat, leaving his unfinished coffee behind. He stepped outside, half-hoping he might see you down the street, but there was no sign of you. The crisp air bit at him, making everything feel sharper, clearer—he’d have to be patient. He’d have to show you he respected your boundaries and that he was capable of being your friend without expectation or pressure.

As he began his walk home, he took a deep breath, silently resolving to make things right. Next time, he’d wait. He’d listen. And he’d let you set the pace.

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[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 30 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's excitement over the first set of ultrasound photos is unparalleled. He has never been so happy and so overwhelmed in his life, but at times he feels ill equipped to process everything that's happening. And the last thing he wants is to make you feel like he's growing tired of you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, doctors, angst, fluff

Length: 6600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley wanted to be able to explain it to you, but he wasn't really sure he could. Sitting in the waiting room with you and anticipating an ultrasound to see the baby was honestly more than he ever thought he could have. You were more than he ever thought he deserved, and you wanted him anyway. But a baby? 

He barely had a baseline to build off of. His dad died when he was young enough that he only had a handful of fleeting memories. The sound of a laugh. Two big hands lifting him up when he fell. A lullaby sung softly as he drifted off to sleep. Besides the photos that you and he collected from his storage unit and the stories his mom recounted when he was younger, that's all he had.

But he could practically hear his mom telling him how excited Nick Bradshaw was to be a dad. Bradley could remember the joy in her voice whenever she told him about the way she would catch father and son goofing off together. She was adamant that Bradley cried almost nonstop the first day his dad was gone for a deployment. And now Bradley desperately wished he could remember these little details that made up their relationship. Because soon, god willing, he was going to be on the other side of things: the parent who loves goofing off and singing, but who also gets deployed and causes tears to fall.

It was all too overwhelming for him to put into words, but as he laced his fingers with yours, he knew he didn't have to figure out how to do everything all at once. 

"Are you nervous?" you asked.

Bradley looked at your open expression and immediately felt better. Talking through things and sharing his thoughts was the best way to keep from driving himself crazy while also letting you know how important you were. "Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."

He still felt silly at times for sharing the notebooks with you, but you nodded with a little smile on your lips. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."

He reached for you and kissed you without hesitation. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now. And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."

Bradley let you bury your face against his neck. It didn't feel like you were hiding from him so much as giving him a taste of the kind of response he'd get if the two of you were alone. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and said, "I adore you, Roo. You'll be the best daddy."

Bradley almost laughed when you jolted in your seat after the nurse called your name. "Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."

"Holy shit," Bradley replied, palms suddenly sweaty. Baby photos. He was on his feet in an instant, ready to go. And maybe this was what his dad felt like. Perhaps his parents didn't know what they were doing either, but rather they just counted themselves lucky to go along for the ride. He wished one of them had left him a notebook.

You were smiling up at him as he reached for your hand again, and your fingers felt sure and steady all wrapped up with his. "I'm excited, too," you whispered, answering your own question from earlier while he ran his thumb along your rings. "And maybe a little nervous."

"I'm right here," he promised as the two of you followed the nurse into a room filled with equipment. "I'm not going anywhere."

He kissed you and then begrudgingly let go of your hand when the nurse gave you a hospital gown to change into. As she left the room with the promise that your doctor would be in shortly, Bradley dragged his palms across his khaki covered thighs as he sat down and watched you change. Even though you were suffering from near constant nausea, he thought you looked incredible. Your face was glowing, and you kept looking at him with adoration in your eyes. 

"Jesus," he grunted when you removed your bra. Was it possible that today he was the hornier one for once? "Sweetheart. Your tits," he whispered as he ran a hand over his face while you giggled. "Unreal." Then your underwear went sliding down your legs, and he reached down to help you out of them. "Hand me the gown," he told you as he folded your underwear across his knee.

You slipped into the gown when he held it open for you, and then you stood between his legs while he secured the ties and kissed you through the fabric. Your laughter filled the small room, and when the doctor walked in, she found you sitting on Bradley's lap while he ran his knuckles gently across your belly. 

"I'm Dr. Morris," she said, shaking hands with you as you stood and then reaching for Bradley's. "I love it when partners show up for appointments, too. It's a lot more fun."

He watched Dr. Morris help you up onto the table, immediately missing your warm body next to his. "I plan on being here for every appointment unless I'm deployed." Your smile faltered a little bit at his words, so he added, "And even then, I'd steal a jet and fly in for a few hours. This is that important to me."

Your smile was restored and then some. Bradley scooted the chair a little closer when you reached for his hand as Dr. Morris started to ask you some questions and enter them into the software. "Do you recall when you last menstruated? I'd like to calculate a due date assuming we find a healthy fetus."

Once you told her the date of your last period, Bradley blurted out, "Why wouldn't it be healthy?"

Now he had two pairs of eyes on him as you squeezed his sweaty hand. "It's very early," Dr. Morris said. "Complications are more likely to occur in the first trimester than in the second or third. And your wife is just between seven and eight weeks along based on her cycle."

"Oh," Bradley said, swallowing hard. You'd tried to tell him all of this information before, letting him know it was too early to inform your parents or Nat or any of your other friends. But it felt somehow wrong coming from someone else. He didn't like this information when it was laid out before him in the exam room. 

"It's okay, Roo," you told him, a sweet smile still on your face. So he nodded and watched your lips and the curve of your cheek as you answered a few more questions and asked about prenatal vitamins.

Then eventually Dr. Morris said the only words Bradley really wanted to hear right now. "Let's see what we can find with the ultrasound."

He was sitting on the edge of his seat, elbow leaning on the exam table as he gripped your hand for dear life. As excited as he'd been, now he was on the verge of being sick. What if he'd been too rough with you in bed? What if the football at the beach really did hit you in the wrong spot? What if all of the vomiting had been worse than either of you considered?

One thing was for certain. Bradley was going to love you no matter what, until his dying day. So he held onto your hand and kissed your knuckles as Dr. Morris squeezed lube onto a wand that looked a bit like one of the vibrators you had at home. "Is that for the ultrasound?" he asked, watching you spread your legs wider. 

"Yes," the doctor replied, and a huge computer monitor lit up. "We need to get really up close at this stage to be able to see anything, so we're doing a transvaginal ultrasound today. The ones you're thinking of that use a paddle on the belly will come later."

"Right," he replied, and as soon as she slipped the wand inside you, he watched you purse your lips in slight discomfort. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he whispered, eyes glued to your face for any sign of pain. But your pinched expression melted away, and your lips parted softly as you sighed and stared at the computer monitor. 

"Oh. Oh, Bradley! Look!"

When he turned toward the screen, he slowly stood as you pulled his hand closer to your body and held it with both of yours. Everything looked a little fuzzy at first, just some gray and black shapes. But then a cute little bean started to take shape as Dr. Morris adjusted the wand, and Bradley rasped, "Is that the baby?"

"Yes," she replied evenly, also watching the monitor. "And everything looks great."

Warmth spread through his entire body as Bradley huffed out a laugh while you giggled. He wasn't sure if his hand was shaking or if it was yours, but he leaned down and kissed your wrists before finding your lips with his. "That's our baby," he whispered, kissing you once more.

"It's adorable," you said, smiling nonstop. "Like a little bean, or a chicken nugget."

Bradley leaned on the table, keeping as close to you as he could. "I'm already so in love." He could feel tears in his eyes as Dr. Morris froze the screen. "Is it over?" he asked in a slight panic. In all honesty, he could happily spend the rest of the day right here with you and the baby, and he wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.

"Just capturing some images," she reassured him. "Baby's first picture."

"Oh my god," Bradley groaned softly, and you ran your fingers through his hair as he ducked his head against your shoulder. "That's the first picture, Baby Girl."

"The baby looks just like you, Roo," you told him with a laugh, and he kissed you until the doctor cleared her throat.

"Let's see what we can find if we zoom in a little more."

With rapt attention once again, Bradley stared at the screen. It looked like the baby was bouncing around a bit, wiggling to an unknown song. "Is that movement good?" he asked. "And what's that little flickering spot?"

"Very good," she replied. "And the flickering is the heartbeat."

"The heartbeat?" That was inexplicably what threw him over the edge as a tear managed to squeeze its way down his cheek when he blinked. "Holy shit."

He just let his head rest against your chest and basked in the feel of your fingers in his hair as you whispered, "I love you." Bradley had no idea if you were talking to him or the baby. Or maybe both. Or maybe you loved Dr. Morris, because in this moment he certainly did as she snapped more photos. Maybe you loved everything right now just like he did.

"I love you, too."

--------------------------

Bradley was falling apart as you ran your fingertips along his scarred cheek. Or perhaps he was completely keeping it together. You weren't really sure. He had some tears in his eyes even though he was smiling, and the two of you were holding onto each other. 

"Do you want to listen to the heartbeat as well?" Dr. Morris asked, and the two of you responded at the same time. 

"Yes!"

She laughed and adjusted the ultrasound wand inside you which was actually extremely uncomfortable, but you were starting to think Bradley would cry harder when she removed it. And then you heard it. Dr. Morris adjusted something on the control panel, and set a device on your belly, and you could hear the heartbeat. 

"Why is it so fast?" Bradley asked, squeezing your hand. "That's like really fast."

Now your heartbeat was picking up, but Dr. Morris said, "One hundred and fifty two beats per minute. That's perfectly where it should be."

"Oh, okay," Bradley sighed, eyes transfixed on the monitor. "That's good then. That's a strong Bradshaw heartbeat right there. Can you take another picture? The nugget looks really cute like that."

You laughed and reached for him when she eventually shut off the equipment and removed the wand. At Bradley's request, she printed out enough copies of each image that you'd be able to give them to your parents, all of your friends and even Bradley's cousin Brenda in Virginia. 

"This seems like overkill," you whispered as the printer just kept going and going.

"It's not," he promised. "I need all of them to wallpaper my locker and fill my helmet bag. Just a bunch of pictures of you and now the baby, too."

"We'll get more ultrasound photos at the next appointment. And the next one after that," you reminded him. 

"Good. We'll have enough to wallpaper at home, too." Eased himself back down into the chair as you sat up a little bit while Dr. Morris cleaned up her workstation. 

"When is the due date?" you asked suddenly. 

"March 24th," she replied, and you and Bradley shared a smile. "Do either of you have any other questions for me?" she asked as she handed a massive stack of ultrasound photos to your husband who looked like he just won the lottery. 

"When can we find out if it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, looking through the images with a crooked little grin on his face. 

"In the second trimester," she assured him. "You'll make a special appointment for an anatomy scan."

You cleared your throat and said, "So... I've been really quite... I'm sure it's the hormones and everything, but I've been extremely aroused for the past few weeks." Bradley gave you a wide eyed look as you asked, "Basically, I want my husband around the clock right now, and I want to know if that's normal?"

He let out a strangled choking sound, and his cheeks started to flush pink as Dr. Morris said, "That's totally normal. Have at it."

You pressed your lips together before you quickly asked, "And rough is okay? Like pretty rough."

"Yep," she replied, completely unfazed by your words as Bradley looked like he wanted to run out of the room with his stack of baby pictures. "Anything else?"

A smile crept to your lips, one that Bradley would have probably found alarming if he were looking anywhere else except the door at the moment. "Actually, yes. I do have one more question for you, Dr. Morris. Based on the size of the baby and the date of my last period, can you tell me when you think the baby was conceived?"

"Sure," she replied, turning the monitor back on and scrolling through all of the information in your electronic file. 

"You did not just ask her that," Bradley whispered, his voice deep with annoyance and maybe a little bit of desire as you grinned at him and bit your lip. 

"I would say you probably conceived right around June 27th."

You squealed with delight as Bradley groaned. "Thank you so much, Dr. Morris. We'll see you again in a few weeks."

When she left the room, you hopped off the table and started to untie your gown, pausing to pump your fist in the air while Bradley held his forehead in his hand. "Okay, okay. You win," he whined as he laughed. "You win."

"I told you the baby was conceived in the Honda!"

---------------------------

Later that night, Bradley kept reminding himself that Dr. Morris said rough sex was okay. That seemed to be the only way you wanted it as you got on all fours on the bed and said, "Fuck me hard, Daddy." And Bradley was never going to be one to deny his wife anything she asked for. 

Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, occasionally dripping onto your back as he leaned over you. He was panting next to your ear as he went as hard as he could, fucking you until your knees buckled and he had to hold you up. "You know, I used to have a wife who liked it sweet sometimes. I wonder what happened to her?"

"You knocked her up," you gasped as he rubbed your clit with his fingers. 

Fuck, he was getting close, and your words were not helping in the least. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come for Daddy." 

A few more swipes of his fingers and a little more dirty talk, and you were coming. Holy hell, you were coming hard, which was a good thing, because Bradley needed a break. You released an unholy moan as your legs gave out again, and this time, he let you sink down to the bed as he grabbed his cock in time to come all over your ass and your back. 

"Roo," you gasped as he painted you up, and you met his eyes over your shoulder. "That's so fucking hot!"

"I'm glad you think so," he grunted before he sprawled out on the bed next to you on his back. "I got nothing left in the tank, Sweetheart. Do not ask me for more tonight."

You crawled over to kiss his sweaty face and whispered, "You did so good," as you patted his abs adoringly. "You're already the world's best Daddy." Then you leaned down and cleaned his cum from the head of his cock with your tongue, and Bradley moaned as you climbed out of bed. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed."

He raised his hand in a wave or surrender, he wasn't quite sure which. Forty-five minutes of nailing you until you screamed his name was the most intense workout he'd had in weeks. He needed to hit his home gym in the garage a little harder. Maybe he could invite Jake over to lift weights with him, and then he could sneak away and take a nap while you and Jake had one of your gossip sessions. That actually sounded pretty great.

Bradley managed to get out of bed long enough to let Tramp out and brush his teeth. By that point, you were getting out of the shower and drying yourself off,  humming and sighing softly. 

"I know what you're trying to do," he said with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "And it's not gonna work."

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised as you ran the towel across your chest. "I'm sorry. What exactly am I trying to do that's not going to work?"

He spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, sending a glare at you in the mirror. "Look at your fucking tits, Sweetheart. Now you're just flaunting them."

"I'm literally just standing here."

He shook his head and kissed your forehead as he walked past. "You know what you did."

When you slipped in bed next to him, he pulled you close while you laughed softly. You were wearing nothing except for his old UVA shirt, and when you curled up next to him, he pushed you gently onto your back. Then he yanked the shirt up and shimmied under the covers so his lips were next to your tummy. 

He kissed up and down your side before laying with his cheek on your hip and one hand on your belly. "Listen kid, I don't know what you're doing in there, but I need you to chill, okay? Someday soon, you'll get to see how pretty and perfect your mommy is. Yes, I think about her all day long. Yes, I love her, but I can only take so much. Your old man is an old man."

You lifted up the covers, and Bradley felt your fingers in his hair. "No, you're not."

He kissed the spot just below your belly button before returning to his pillow. "I'll be close to thirty-eight when this little nugget arrives."

"That's not old."

When you curled up on him this time, he collected you in his arms. If you were surprised by his words, you didn't let on. "My dad died when he was twenty-nine. My mom died when she was forty-two. You're a bit younger than me, not that I mind. But my age is something I think about a lot. I'm older than all my friends. I like to be prepared for things before I jump into them. I like to feel out my surroundings. Except when it comes to you, apparently."

You snuggled in a little closer, voice soft as you asked, "What do you mean?"

Bradley kissed your fingers before lacing them with his in the dark bedroom. "I was all in with you as soon as you looked at me. Zero hesitation. No turning back."

You buried your face in his chest and moaned. "You can't just talk about me like that. It makes me insane for you," came your muffled voice, and Bradley laughed. 

"I guess I never had any hesitation about us having kids either. And I'm just saying... it's nice to have time to think about the baby before the baby actually gets here. But I'm also in my head a lot right now about my parents and how much more flying I've got left in me and how I don't actually know how the fuck to take care of a baby."

"Bradley!" Your voice was scolding as you propped yourself up on him. "We're a team. And I wouldn't lie to you. You're not old, and I'm pretty sure nobody actually knows how to take care of a baby until they have one in front of them. Then you just kind of do it, I guess. The fact that you are so excited about this pregnancy is at least half of what's turning me on so much. You will be the best dad imaginable, because you love me so well, and I don't doubt you have more of that to give."

He was exhausted, and your words settled over him like something he could physically feel. "I really am so excited. Today felt like a dream. I just want to cover the whole house in the ultrasound photos, and I can't wait to get another smaller paper airplane tattoo."

He felt your fingers trace his tattoo in the darkness. You knew exactly where it was without guidance just like he knew exactly where yours was. "You'll get it right here? With the baby's name on it?"

"Yeah," he whispered, starting to feel like he was going to doze off.

"I have a question," you said, and he squeezed your hand softly. "Earlier you asked when we can find out if it's a boy or a girl."

He smiled at the hesitation in your voice. "What's your question?"

Bradley could feel your heartbeat against his body, and he thought about how he had been able to see and hear what the baby was doing just a few hours ago. The beautiful sound of that rapid heartbeat that belonged to his child. 

"Do you care? If it's a boy or a girl?"

"No," he answered honestly. "Not one bit. I just care that it's ours."

"Me too. I'm happy either way." Your words sounded soft and dreamy, and he believed them.

"I love you both. Now let the old man sleep."

--------------------------

The rest of the week felt like a bit of a reality check. You tried taking the prenatal vitamins from Dr. Morris, but you threw them back up almost instantly every single time. "Just skip them," Bradley said on Friday morning as you threw up in the toilet when you were trying to get dressed for work. 

"I can't," you practically wailed. "They are supposed to keep me healthy so I can keep the baby healthy." You looked up at him from where you were sitting on the floor.

He sighed and checked the time. "Why don't you just stay home today? You're looking pretty green, and it's Friday anyway. Text Bickel."

Anger flared inside you. He was standing there looking nice and tidy in his khakis while you were on the floor turning yours into a wrinkly mess. And the reason for that was the fact that you had to deal with all of this shit. He just got to enjoy your libido while being excited about the baby. You really didn't want to start resenting him right now when you were leaving for Maryland soon.

"I can't just skip work on a whim like what I'm doing isn't important," you snapped. "I'm trying to get my presentation ready for Annapolis, in case you forgot you offered to help me with that."

He was on his knees in an instant with your chin in his hand. "Hey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want you overexerting yourself, especially since your work is important and you'll be traveling soon."

You still felt bitchy, even though he made you peanut butter crackers and took Tramp for a walk while you stayed curled up in bed for an extra twenty minutes. "That's right. I'll be gone for a week. I'm sure you're looking forward to having a break from the near constant sex."

You used the vanity to pull yourself to your feet while your stomach lurched, even though he was holding his hand out to help you. "Look at me," he demanded without touching you at all. You didn't want to, but you shifted your gaze to his face as he stood too. "If you really think that's true, then we have a serious problem. I'm going to assume that you feel the need to take your nausea out on me, and that's fine. I don't really mind. That's what I'm here for. But do not accuse me of ever wanting to be separated from you."

You pressed your lips together and just nodded as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You didn't want to be away from him either, but you felt another wave of sickness rolling through your body.

"I need to go, Sweetheart. I'll stop and get you some of those ginger pills on my way home. Maybe they'll help. I love you."

After he left, you threw up again and fought the urge to throw the bottle of prenatal vitamins across the bathroom. Even now you were horny enough that you considered climbing back in bed with your vibrator to take the edge off, but you knew nothing would be as good as the real thing. And you'd have to apologize to Bradley before you could have that, and it would undoubtedly make you cry when you did. 

When you finally made your way back out to the kitchen, you found more peanut butter crackers arranged on a plate in the shape of a heart with one of the ultrasound photos next to it. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to call your husband, but it went to voicemail. You listened to his raspy voice before ending the call and texting him instead.

I'm sorry. If you want Marry Me Rooster for dinner, pick up some chicken along with the ginger pills.

After you tucked the ultrasound picture in the new Bronco, you spent your whole morning sitting quietly with Cat, the two of you going over each presentation slide with a fine tooth comb. "Is that calculation correct?" she asked, pulling out a calculator. 

"It fucking better be. I did it myself. Months ago."

She looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied, anxious that Bradley hadn't responded to your text. Two days ago, you were having the absolute time of your life with Dr. Morris, and now you wanted to scream. "Can we just finish this?" you said through gritted teeth as Cat checked your math which was obviously done correctly. 

"That's what we're working on," she said smoothly, using her mom voice on you and making your nerves prickle. "Finishing the slides so we can spend next week practicing and getting our notes in order for all of these meetings and cocktail receptions."

The last thing you wanted to do right now was pretend you were drinking alcohol while trying not to vomit. Nothing about this trip to Annapolis seemed appealing. And you didn't want to have to try to hide your pregnancy from your parents if you drove to see them one night. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Cat asked, and you had to steel your spine as you nodded. 

"I'm perfect." There was no point in making her mad at you when the two of you would be in close quarters for several days, so you rolled your shoulders and got back to work.

-----------------------------

Asking Jake if he wanted to workout actually wasn't the best idea Bradley had come up with recently. It would be nice to have someone to spot for him at the weight bench, but if you were making his favorite dinner, he'd rather spend the time with you. 

"Fuck," he groaned as Jake followed him to the grocery store on his way home. Apparently he needed protein powder and didn't mind that Bradley had to stop for chicken. Of course now he had to try to discreetly grab the ginger pills that you wanted to try for your nausea. 

It ended up being easier than he thought since Jake took fifteen minutes to decide which flavor of protein powder he wanted. He was still looking at them when Bradley went back to that aisle. "Are you almost done?"

Jake shot him a nasty look from where he was squatting at the bottom shelf. "Listen, it would go faster if I didn't get hit on constantly when I'm wearing my uniform."

Bradley rolled his eyes so hard, he was afraid he'd get a migraine. "Keep it in your fucking pants. I'll meet you at my house."

Jake grabbed a container and followed him to the registers. When they passed a hot sauce display, he grabbed one and handed it to Bradley. "Get this for Angel, and maybe you'll get laid. Sounds like you need it."

"It's literally the last thing I need," he mumbled, but paid for it anyway along with the ginger and the chicken. When Bradley slid his credit card back in his wallet, he saw the corner of the ultrasound image he had tucked in there last night. He unfolded it and took a peek as Jake paid for his powder. You were everything. And the baby was everything. And he should have been a little more patient with you this morning. 

"You coming?" Jake asked, and Bradley shoved the nugget photo back inside his wallet before slipping it into his pocket. 

You were already home, and Bradley parked the blue Bronco next to the red one. Jake came careening into the driveway, stopping about two inches from the back of the new Bronco. "Show her a little respect, okay?"

Jake snorted as he climbed out. "You literally fucked the other car to bits. I didn't do shit."

Bradley groaned as he walked inside with Jake on his heels. The first thing he saw was you in the kitchen, feeding Tramp a treat. You had on some skin tight yoga pants and a little shirt without a bra, and you turned to him and said, "Can we talk?" He opened his mouth to tell you that you could have any damn thing you wanted, and then you said, "Hi, Jake," with a look of surprise on your face. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"Hey, Angel," Jake crooned, walking into the kitchen and pulling you in for a tight hug. Shit, Bradley forgot to text you and let you know he wasn't going to be alone. "Didn't see you at lunch today."

"I worked through lunch," you replied, your eyes on Bradley. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Nah, just going to lift weights out in the garage with Rooster for a bit. I'll be out of your hair after that."

"You can stay if you want," you told him, but he was already heading toward the hallway bathroom with his gym bag. "Why didn't you tell me he was coming over?" you whispered. "I'm not even wearing underwear, and you left one of the ultrasound photos on the fridge."

Bradley quickly pulled it down and stuck it in the freezer on his way to get to you. "I'm sorry. I meant to text you, but then I got in the Bronco and forgot." Tears welled up in your eyes; he should be used to this by now, but he was not. "If you're horny, I'll take care of you as soon as Jake leaves."

You scoffed at him. "It's not that. I don't just want that. I wanted to talk. You're not just a gigantic, walking dick to me."

Jake cleared his throat, and you and Bradley both turned to see him standing there in his gym clothes. "I'll meet you out in the garage," he said with a smirk. "Take your time."

"I'll just be a minute," Bradley called over his shoulder, but you'd already started to open the chicken he set on the counter. "Do you want to talk now?"

"No." Great. You were giving him one word answers now. 

"Would you like me to get changed and get out of your hair?"

"Yes."

---------------------------

As soon as Bradley walked through the sliding glass door and headed for the garage, you broke out in tears. What the fuck was your problem? You didn't mind if Jake was here or if he stayed for dinner. You didn't want to completely discourage Bradley from hanging up the nugget photo. You just couldn't control your emotions, and you had zero patience today. And you couldn't stop running to the bathroom to pee. 

You decided to fill up some travel mugs with water and take them out to the guys to smooth things over. Tramp ran around in the grass as you walked across the yard, and you could already hear the two of them talking over their playlist as you approached the doorway. 

"Is Angel's ass bigger now?" Jake asked, pointing to the dirty calendar that Bradley hung on the wall and strategically covered part of with a post-it note.

Your husband shook his head. "Stop staring at my calendar," he replied as he added weight to one side of the bar. "And stop talking about my wife's ass."

"She's in a feisty mood today. You probably didn't even need that hot sauce to get laid, old man." Based on Jake's response, you were pretty sure neither of them had seen you in the doorway yet as you stood there awkwardly. 

Bradley's brow creased. "She's been a real handful, actually."

Jake hooted with laughter. "In the bedroom? Never mind, I don't want to know."

It took Bradley a few seconds to respond. "Can we talk about anything else other than my wife? Please? Literally any other topic would be great."

You turned on your heel and carried the waters back toward the house as soon as you heard Jake say, "Speaking of asses, you know who has a great one..."

They were out there for a full hour. You made what turned out to be perhaps the most incredible looking batch of Marry Me Rooster of your life while you stewed. Even your husband was already sick of you. Soon you'd gain so much pregnancy weight, your ass would probably be enormous. He'd probably have to close his eyes just to have sex with you. 

You froze as you were putting the chicken onto a plate. What if he couldn't stand the sight of you with a belly at all? All stretched out and weird? Bradley had probably glorified it in his mind, but you knew it wasn't going to be all that appealing when you were nine months along in the middle of March with stretch marks galore. You were already bloated enough that Jake noticed.

You were turning and looking down at your body when they both came walking back inside, out of breath. "Smells good in here. Are these for us?" Bradley asked, pointing at the waters on the island. 

"Yes," you whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. As soon as you heard his voice, you were horny again, but you didn't want to keep forcing him to have sex with you just because you couldn't help yourself.

Jake kissed you on the cheek, and when you told him he was welcome to stay for dinner, he said, "I'll take a raincheck. See you for golf on Sunday, Rooster," and headed out to his car.

"Do you think you can eat dinner?" Bradley asked you softly. When you turned away from him and nodded, he said, "You didn't have to wait for me if you were hungry. Do you want me to shower first?"

You burst into tears once again. "I don't know if I'm hungry. I don't ever know. Sometimes I just grow up. And I can't stop fucking crying! And I don't want you to be so sick of me that you'd rather talk about literally anything else with Jake, including someone else's ass."

"Whoa, whoa," he said quietly, spinning you around again. "I don't want to talk about anything else besides you, Sweetheart."

You shook your head and covered your eyes with your hands. "I tried to bring the waters outside. I heard you."

When you were pulled snug against his sweaty shirt, you felt slightly better. "Baby Girl. I was not about to get into a conversation with Jake about how I can barely keep up with you in bed. In order to keep my pride intact, I would at least want him to know you're pregnant if I'm admitting that you're wearing me out." He kissed the top of your head over and over.

"It feels like you're getting sick of me," you sobbed softly. "And you brought me hot sauce even though I can't eat it right now, and that made me so sad."

"I couldn't be less sick of you if I tried. I just needed to keep Jake off my back rather than let slip that you're pregnant, so I got the hot sauce. And it's completely my fault I forgot to tell you he was coming over, but I had a lot on my mind today."

"Like what?" you asked, inhaling how delicious he smelled even compared to the dinner you made.

"Like possible baby names and the look and feel of your pussy when I fuck you. Do you need me right now? Because I'm ready to go when you want me."

"So badly," you squeaked. "I'm sorry, Roo."

"Don't ever apologize again for wanting to have sex with me. I will be the one to apologize if I don't last as long as you need me to."

You nodded against him. "Well then I'll apologize for having a bad attitude."

"Do you need me to fuck the attitude out of you?" 

"Yes, sir."

-------------------------------

Imagine how excited he'll be holding that baby in his beefy arms. Just stay calm, sweet Roo. The hormones won't last forever. Up next, we're going to Annapolis. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 31

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Tony's Surprise

Another story written with the help of @shhhsecretsideblog

Lets hope you enjoy it :)

---

Captain Tony Joplins, member of the Royal Marines - and first-time father-to-be was actually giddy with excitement. He stared at the calendar on his desk in the barracks - it had 3 dates ringed. First was the due date of the baby - over a week ago now. The next was the expected completion date of his tour of duty - 2 weeks after the due date of his baby. And today, another date that had been circled. Today was a special day. Today was the day he was going home.

The peacekeeping mission had been a success, his team was handling the handover of power to the local militia, and they were working on demobilisation now. He was granted special permission to return home to see his wife.

If it was through sheer dumb luck, willpower or the obstinate attitude of the mother and baby he didn’t know, but a week past her due date, she still hadn’t delivered.

She always said she would wait until he got back… but never in his wildest dreams did Tony think he would make it back in time for the birth.

He held the phone to his head talking casually to his wife.

“Uh huh. Really… you don’t say. So, how’s the bump? No sign of anything happening ? I honestly can’t believe it too baby. I mean you must be grumpy and aching.”

The call went on for 10 minutes more with the couple catching up on the days news. Sarah, Tony’s wife had no idea he was planning an early trip home, and he wanted to keep the surprise as long as he could.

“Ok baby I’ve got to go. Speak to you tomorrow, get some rest it must be getting late there. Put the phone on your belly so I can say goodnight to our little munchkin. Goodnight dumpling”. He signed off with a kiss down the phone and wished his wife goodnight.

The second he hung up the phone, he picked up his travel bag, turned out the light to the barracks office and signalled the crew driver to take him to the airport. He was on his way home.

***

Sarah hung up the phone and put it back on charge beside the bed. Getting to speak to Tony was always the highlight of the day; she missed him dearly. But she understood his career, why he’d enlisted with the Royal Marines, how much it meant to him to do what he does. It was one of the reasons she fell in love with him - his selflessness.

Being an independent person, it never bothered Sarah to have a husband frequently away on duty. She was happy running the house, going to work, getting to watch whatever she wanted of an evening. And whenever Tony was home, they would more than make up for the time apart by spending days holed up in bed together. Which is how she’d gotten to be the size of a house right now.

Her hand rubbed over the large swell of her pregnant belly that was sitting heavily atop her thighs. A week overdue and she felt… huge. Her ankles were swollen, her breasts were spilling out of all her maternity bras, and her stomach was stretched so far she often found herself cupping her hands underneath to physically hold it up.

But Sarah wouldn’t have it any other way. Tony was going to be home in a week and she was certain both her and the baby could wait that long. The midwife had mentioned an induction to her earlier that day during her routine checkup, given she was a week overdue with still no sign of baby, but Sarah was quick to shut that suggestion down. The baby would come when they were good and ready, and Sarah was sure they were holding out for dad’s return.

Taking a few deep breaths to prepare herself Sarah hauled her body up off the bed, where she’d been resting during her call with Tony, and started getting ready for bed. It was late and her body was exhausted. The one good thing about being this heavily pregnant while your husband was on tour was that she had the whole bed to herself. Well, plus the giant pregnancy pillow.

***

Tony approached the military airfield and hopped on the waiting aeroplane. He turned off his phone with a sigh of contentment. He had to get to the more publicly accessible airport first which involved a quick hop over to the civilian airfields, quick change into his civvies and then a 4 hour flight back home. In around 5 hours he could surprise his wife who would hopefully be sleeping soundly in bed at the time - if she wasn’t up for the dozenth time in the night to pee he recited in his head, the same mantra given to him by Sarah for weeks now.

The military aircraft hop was uneventful, check in at the civilian airport went as expected and as the pilot announced the plane was ready to take off, all was good in the world.

Back at home though, Sarah had struggled to sleep. She couldn’t get comfortable. The Braxton hicks contractions were worse than ever, though she was timing them, expecting things to get progressively worse, they were very erratic.

Rubbing her distended stomach, she asked her little passenger to calm down, to let mummy sleep, but for whatever reason, solely known to her subconscious and her baby, it would never settle.

***

“Did you want anything to drink sir?” The air steward asked Tony.

“Yes please.” Replied Tony as he put down his book and looked over the options available on the trolly.

“What would you like?”

He was technically on leave now, he told himself looking at all the alcoholic options atop the trolley. It had been a long day, getting everything finished before his departure and the multiple flights, he could really use a drink. But his thoughts drifted to Sarah, he wanted to get home as soon as possible and didn’t want to turn up with beer on his breath.

“I’ll just have a splash of water thanks.”

***

The bed was wet. Sarah woke up groaning into her pillow and feeling damp sheets beneath her thighs.

“Oh… oh no baby. You were doing so well, waiting for your dad to come home.” Sarah grumbled as the twisting cramp pulling her further away from sleep.

Curling around her belly, she breathed through the wave that seemed more intense than before she’d gone to sleep. The baby wiggled and kicked inside, clearly they were also disgruntled and disturbed by the change of events.

When the contraction passed Sarah pushed herself up, swinging her legs off the bed and rubbing her heavy stomach. “Hooo- so you’ve decided to come out now then have you?” She asked her unborn babe, talking to the baby was something she frequently did. “Well if I’m not going to be able to sleep, might as well get up and change the bedding. Put the washing on, can’t have these sheets staying like this.”

Sarah bundled up the sheets into a pile on the bed as she stopped, one hand on the bare mattress, one on her belly, a rogue contraction catching her off guard. She groaned through the pain, surprised at the urges her body was going through.

“I wonder if Joss is awake…” she mumbled to herself, something to take her mind off her predicament.

Joss, or Jocelyn to use her full name was Sarah’s midwife, and whilst she knew she was on risk of call at any time considering the late stage of her pregnancy, getting a call at 1am is never fun… especially if she could be potentially in labour for several hours.

As the contraction ebbed away, she grabbed the sheets and walked with the bundle rested on top of her bump as she waddled downstairs into the kitchen, dumped the sheets on the floor, pulled open the washer door and after putting in the load, set the machine away.

She thought of her options. She could contact Joss, but preferred not to this early, and considered trying to contact Tony, but she had no way to contact his military sat phone, only his personal mobile which he may not have access to on patrol - then considered that perhaps she didn’t want to worry him with no way for him to get back home.

The thoughts were racing through her head when the next contraction snuck up on her. She felt suddenly doubtful and unprepared, though she knew she had researched this countless times and knew exactly what to expect. It just suddenly got real though.

With hands braced against the kitchen countertop, Sarah took deep, slow breaths. In and out, in and out. Allowing the long exhales to both aid with the contraction but also to steady and calm her mind.

No amount of research could truly prepare her for the experience of birth. The contractions were sharper and more intense than she’d expected early labour to be, and knowing this was just the start made her teeter toward the panicked uncertainty. Regulating her breathing helped, as did having the task of putting on the wash.

Deciding to wait to call Joss, until things were a bit more established and when she’d actually need the support, Sarah slowly pottered around the kitchen finding tasks to do to distract her. She wiped down all the work surfaces, reorganised all the kitchen cupboards, threw away out of date cans and cleaned behind infrequently used glassware. Unloading the dishwasher proved difficult, unable to bend down with the size of her pregnant belly and forcing her to squat down to get the items in the bottom drawer. It was of course during this task when another contraction struck. With her heavy bump hanging low between her thighs, Sarah grasped up and held fast to the edge of the counter as the contraction tore through her body, squeezing and twisting the muscles, working the baby down towards its exit. A long moan escaped her as it peaked and when it was over she hauled herself back to standing, breathing heavily.

“That was tough” she spoke out loud, vocalising her thoughts to no one in particular. She boiled her kettle and pulled a puppy pad from her birth supplies walking into her living room and placing it on her sofa to give her somewhere to sit.

Feeling another contraction come along as she walked back into her kitchen she paused - hands resting on her counter top again - as the waves took her breath away. She found herself closing her eyes and humming to herself as the wave crested and finally subsided, all the while her thoughts were drifting to suggestions such as ‘this hurts a lot more than I expected’ and ‘it’s happening fast.’

She plodded back into the living room and placed her hot tea on the desk next to the sofa, and in turn, slowly lowered herself down onto the pad she had placed earlier - the squelch and feeling of wetness on her thighs and ass an immediate reminder that she hadn’t changed out of her wet clothes from her water having broken.

She groaned to herself, as much out of frustration as anything else with having to get out of the seat again so early, but the dampness didn’t feel comfortable at all. A waddling trudge to the bedroom later and she had managed to change her pyjamas to a fresh pair and felt much more comfortable.

As she pulled up the damp pad to replace it with another, her body decided it was time for the next contraction and she grabbed hard into the back of her sofa, fingers digging into the leather like upholstery.

The pain left her panting and groaning, once more this contraction had been noticeably worse than the previous one, and she shook her head with it passing, deciding it was time to seek Joss’s support.

The midwife answered after only a few rings. Sarah habitually apologised for the calling at such a late hour, but to Joss it was all part of the job. After informing Joss of her broken waters and the frequency of the contractions, Sarah was relieved to hear the midwife was on her way over.

Over the next while, the intensity of the contractions really started to chip away at Sarah’s resolve. Her confidence in her strength was fading with every wave and Sarah felt herself wanting, and needing, support. Having Joss on her way helped, but it also made it very, very real. And she missed Tony. Her loving husband and father to this child should be here… she really didn’t want to do this without him. She looked up at the ceiling to try and stop the tears from gathering enough to roll down her cheeks.  

Without even realising, Sarah unlocked her phone and called Tony’s mobile. It went to voicemail but she wasn’t surprised. Hearing his automated voicemail message brought a lump to her throat but she quickly swallowed it away before the sound of the beep.

“Hey honey, it’s me. Um….You’re probably out on patrol with no access to your phone. I know you’re busy saving the world, but um…. I guess I just wanted to hear your voice. Hoooo…” her breath hitched as the start of a contraction rolled towards her. “I…errrr also wanted to let you know that -hooooo- it’s baby time. Mmnnn, hang on-” she moved the phone away from her head slightly, humming her way through the latest peak. “Sorry, contraction. I’m okay, don’t worry. I’ve called Joss, she’s on her way over now. I just miss you, babe. I’ll try and keep you updated, though I don’t know when you’ll get these messages. Maybe next time we speak, we’ll be parents.” The smile on Sarah’s face could be heard through the tone of her voice. “I love you.”

Sarah hung up the phone and a minute later she heard the sound of Joss knocking at her front door.

Sarah grunted as she made her waddling way to the front door, one hand jammed heavily into her back, the pressure helped alleviate… something… with the whole process but she was just pleased with the temporary respite.

As the latch clicked on the door and the 2 ladies suddenly looked face to face with each other, it was Joss who spoke first.

“Baby kicking your ass real good?” She asked. Sarah could only nod. “Good, well I’ve got something that’s going to take the edge off.”

It was then Sarah noticed that Joss was carrying a bag slung over her shoulder and saw the gas bottle stored inside.

“Oh my hero… come on in” offered Sarah as she stepped back from the door and allowed Joss to come in behind her, closing the door as she entered.

“So little bubba finally making an appearance?” Asked Joss.

“Sure looks…” as Sarah suddenly grunted “and feels like it” she offered by way of reply.

Joss swung the bag onto the floor with a clunk and dug into it to pull out a regulator and mouthpiece. “Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours dearie… Joss is going to make it all better.”

Sarah took a liking to Joss in the early days of her pregnancy. She liked her amiable nature and her no fuss attitude. As Joss screwed on the regulator to the bottle she asked a few background info checks and finally handed the mouthpiece to Sarah.

“Just in time” she groaned as she put the tube into her mouth and sucked hard. She clenched the tube between her teeth and spoke around it “another one starting.”

Joss nodded and let her take her time before continuing with the admin.

***

At 30,000 feet, Tony lay back in his chair, headphones on and watched a movie. He couldn’t concentrate on it though, all his focus was on getting back to his wife. He looked at his watch. About 3 hours of flight time to go before he lands. He felt like a kid at Christmas.

The stewardess walked past and offered him a snack. He took the sandwich and smiled. By way of conversation the stewardess asked what he was travelling for when he revealed he was heading home for the birth of his first child. The stewardess congratulated him and popped back to the hold, bringing out a plush teddy bear with her. “Hope this brings back good memories of this flight when you get to see the baby.”

***

“I wasn’t expecting things to h-hurt so much so soon…” Sarah panted out and quickly returned the tube of gas to her mouth.

Kneeling on the floor in her living room, elbows resting on the sofa and puppy pad under her knees, Sarah worked through the latest contraction while Joss sat behind her kneading her lower back.

“Childbirth is no joke sweetie, they don’t call it ‘labour’ for nothing.” Joss chuckled to herself mainly, Sarah too busy inhaling the gas to pay much attention. “We’ll get you through this one and then I’ll check to see how far you’ve progressed. You’re doing brilliant dearie.”

Sarah grumbled and groaned through the latest wave, rocking her hips round in circles. When it was over she pulled the mouthpiece away and sat back on her heels, making sure the gas stayed within arms reach at all times.

“That was a rough one eh?” Joss asked, checking her watch and noting the time in her notebook.

“Hooo- yeah. They’re really ramping up now. It’s getting harder to talk through them.”

“Well that’s a good sign, means you’re progressing nicely. Now, shall we see how far you’ve progressed?” Joss asked, grabbing her gloves.

Sarah nodded and got back up to her knees, resting over the sofa cushions. Joss’s expert hands were soon uncomfortably inside her and she grunted.

“Sorry lovely, I’ll be quick.” Joss quipped. “Looking good. Just over 6cm dilated. You’ll be hitting transition soon, that’s where the fun really starts.”

“Can’t wait.” Sarah joked back.

“Are you happy labouring here for the time being? Some mums like to have a bath or shower at this time?” Joss asked.

“Shower would be nice. Might help alleviate some of this back pain.” Sarah said with a groan, stretching awkwardly side to side trying to ease the tense muscles raging across her lower spine.

“Lead the way” offered Joss, giving Sarah a hand to her feet.

“You coming with me?” Asked Sarah, huffing out her breath as she managed to get to her feet.

“Where else do you think I should be… my patient will be in the shower, I’ll be there in case my patient needs me.” Came the matter of fact reply.

“But… but I’ll be naked!” Came Sarah’s exasperated reply.

“In case you aren’t aware, I’ve just seen between your legs only a few minutes ago… and I’ll dare say as things get hot and heavy, you’ll be more than willing to strip for me again, Mrwar” she made a cat like noise whilst wiggling her eyebrows, which in turn sent Sarah into fits of giggles.

“You know what I never thought of it like that… I mean I know I’d need my knickers off but I thought I’d push in my dressing gown.” Answered Sarah.

“If that’s what you want to do, I’ll not stop you” Joss said “but if you want some advice… you’ll get damned hot putting in all the effort. Wear something light, an old tee shirt you don’t mind getting messy… or many mothers prefer nothing at all.”

Sarah had walked over to the base of her stairs during the conversation, has stopped with her foot on the first step, her hand on the banister as the conversation played out. By the end, the contraction had started again.

Joss took her position behind Sarah as she groaned through the pain, Joss’s hand snaking under her pyjamas and finding bare skin to press and knead.

“Do you want the gas and air?” Joss asked.

“No… no… let me see how I manage this, the massage is helping. When I get in the shower, can you put the water jets on my back if I need it?” Asked Sarah.

“Of course babe! Though maybe let’s put some towels down in case of splash back!” Joss sniggered. That in turn set Sarah off and she actually laughed through a contraction, though admittedly at its peak, the laugh warped into a moan.

Finally, after a few moments of respite, the two continued their trek up to the bathroom for Sarah to jump into the shower. She leaned in, set the water to warm, and felt so at ease with Joss she dropped her clothes into a pile at her feet, hands laying on her belly as she gave the shower a few moment to warm ready to step into it. Joss in turn bundled the clothes up and placed them on top of the closed toilet lid.

Stepping into the warm shower was bliss. Sarah hadn’t realised just how tight and tense her back had gotten as she’d worked through each of the contractions. But now, standing under the waterfall, the pressure hitting her spine, she exhaled a moan of relief.

“Told you a shower was a good idea.” Joss sniggered, perching on the edge of the toilet seat and looking around at Sarah and Tony’s bathroom. She always enjoyed this part of her job, getting to see inside her patients homes gave her a great sense of who they were as people.

In this bathroom you could see mainly Sarah’s toiletries littered about the place, very little evidence of Tony, which was expected given he was currently away on tour. But there was still two hand towels on the railing by the sink, two spaces for toothbrushes, and an empty spot beside the sink which was obviously the home of Tony’s wash bag whenever he was back.

Sarah started to grumble when she felt the next contraction began twisting.

“Are you okay in there?” Joss called out over the sounds of the shower.

“Mmmmmm yeah…. Hooo- I’m fine. It’s much better in here with the warmth of the water. But… oooooh could you put the jets on my back now? It’s really starting to pinch…” Sarah planted her palms against the opposite side of the shower to the water, swaying her hips side to side through the wave.

Joss jumped up and changed the setting on the shower so the water came out the jets in the wall instead of the shower head above.

“Better?” Asked Joss

Sarah nodded, silently working through the wave and just letting the powerful jets push the hot water into her aching back.

They stayed in comfortable silence, Sarah shifting and swaying under the glorious streams of warm water, letting the temperature ease the contracting muscles throughout her body.

After a few more contractions Joss offered the suggestion of moving, but Sarah was having none of it. “Mmmm no… happy here…” she breathed, her body swaying beneath the jets her fingers lightly touching the tiles for that bit of stability.

“That’s fine with me, you can stay wherever you’re happiest.”

Then out of no where Sarah’s moaning turned more frantic. “Oooooo no… Joss! I can’t…. Arghhhhh…” Sarah’s hands reached forward, gripping the air, trying to find something to hold and squeeze but there was nothing but tiles. A shooting electricity of pressure and pain shot up the entire length of her back. Knees trembling, hips dipping, Sarah had disappeared outside her body losing all control.

Joss jumped up the second her groaning changed. The sudden change in demeanour signalled the obvious move into transition. Sarah was struggling, with nothing to hold on to her legs were seconds away from buckling. Joss did the only thing she could - she jumped fully clothed into the shower, grabbing Sarah tightly under each armpit and stopped her knees from crashing into the tiled floor.

“It’s okay Sarah, just breathe. I’ve got you.” Joss reassured, the water now splashing her own back as she held Sarah up under the arms.

“I can’t do this!” Sarah cried

“You’re doing brilliant dearie, amazing. Let’s get you down on your knees, get you grounded through this bit.” Joss lowered Sarah gently and the mother-to-be shifted, knees on the floor and her arms out in front.

When Joss was confident Sarah had gotten herself in the position she wanted, she sat down in front of the labouring mother, offering her shoulders to lean on or hands to squeeze.

“ I don’t want to do this anymore. I need a hospital… drugs…” Sarah groaned, grasping Joss’s shoulders and pulling the fabric of her tee shirt into her tight fist.

“You are doing fine my lovely. Just perfect. You are exactly where you need to be, your body is doing exactly what it needs to do.” Joss could feel the water soaking her back and bottom half as she sat on the shower floor. They were no where near the controls to turn the shower off, so until Sarah got through transition, they were stuck there.

***

“The captain has put on the fasten your seatbelts sign, so please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts, we are approaching some turbulence”. It was a message heard all too often in a flight environment, and for Tony he thought nothing of it, clipping his belt shut as the cabin crew went seat to seat to check on things. What he didn’t realise was at the same time his wife was working through turbulence of her own. As the plane rattled and shook through the air, Tony glanced at his watch. An hour and a half. They’ll be beginning the descent in a little bit. Nearly home.

***

Sarah howled, unable to focus on anything else but the arcing pains going through her. There was no more gradual ramp up, groaning, swaying… this was almost torture. She was aware of Joss grabbing her tight but aside from that she was entirely self absorbed. She lost track of time, it may have been moments, it may have been hours. Either way the pain didn’t relent. Each contraction was practically on top of each other…

“I can’t do it make it stop” Sarah gasped out, “it hurts too much I want it to stop.”

“Just relax and breathe through it. You’re in transition.” Joss knew that Sarah may only be part taking her advice in, but she felt her grip slightly relax as her breathing slowed and started back to normality rather than tensing up and fighting it.

“Good, good, that’s it, relax… big deep healing breaths.”

Of course it was easier said than done when the relentless press of her body was in control.

Slowly, too slowly in Sarah’s view, the intensity of transition began to fade. She was loathed to move, scared of provoking another contraction, so remained steady and still, taking long and slow deep breaths.

“You’re doing wonderfully my lovely.” Joss encouraged, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

When she was sure she was through the other side, Sarah’s hands fell limp at her sides and she slumped back on her heels. “Woah… that’s was pretty rough…”

Joss shuffled over to the other wall and finally turned off the shower, leaving the two of them dripping wet on the shower floor. “Yeah transition is pretty intense. But you handled it like a boss.” Joss said as she pulled her hair over her shoulder and squeezed out the water.

“Oh Joss, I’m so sorry, you’re absolutely soaking!” Sarah said feeling guilty, realising now that her full clothed midwife had jumped into the shower with her.

“Oh don’t you worry about me love, I’ve been covered in worse things than water.” Joss joked.

“Did you bring a change of clothes with you?” Sarah asked as she heaved herself back to standing.

“Sadly I didn’t. But I’ll be fine.” Joss pulled a towel from the rail and passed it to Sarah to cover up and dry off.

“You can’t stay in your wet clothes, you’ll get sick. Look, take my dressing gown. You were right, I’m way too hot to be wearing it, so you take it.” Sarah suggested. “I’ll just put on a nighty or stay in the towel for the time being.”

“I can’t wear your clothes Sarah-”

“Why not? It’s just a dressing gown. Get out those wet clothes and then come to the bedroom.” Sarah insisted, heading for the bathroom door.

“If you’re sure…?”

“Yes, now get changed before I have another contraction and change my mind.” Sarah joked.

Joss shrugged. Sarah was right of course, but she admitted this wasn’t quite how she expected things to go.

Following behind Sarah to the bedroom she undid the fastenings to her blouse top, leaving it gaping open as Sarah dug into her wardrobe and pulled out the fluffy robe.

“You sure you don’t mind?” Asked Joss.

“No…. Go right… ahead” the next contraction had started and Sarah was spread eagle in front of her open closet, towel forgotten and dropped to the floor, her feet braced and her hands gripping the doorframe.

Making “hoo hoo” noises as she breathed through the contraction Joss stepped towards her to help only to be waved away. Sarah had started to dance a slow hip wiggle using the door for support moving up and down side to side.

Joss took the opportunity to strip down to her underwear, unbuttoning her trousers and kicking them off whilst keeping one eye on Sarah who, in turn was focused on her body, quietly moaning through a contraction.

Whilst her underwear was also damp as a result of the soaking, she felt that would be way too inappropriate considering the situation.

After pulling the robe over her shoulders, she tied it in the middle as Sarah was coming out the other end of her contraction.

“Phew, that was feeling like I needed to push” came the announcement from the mother to be.

“Yeah you’re reaching the big stretch… I’d have said home stretch, but it’s a bigger deal than that.” Both women at least managed to smile at that quip.

“Where do you want to push?” Asked Joss.

“I want to be on the bed but I never got the covers back on after my waters breaking soaked them earlier.”

“Don’t worry about that let me sort it. Where do you keep the bedclothes.”

“Cupboard in the next room… there’s a tarp there as well to keep the bed dry…”

“Ok let me go look… you wait there, and yell if you feel any more urgent need to push! Can I dry these?”

Sarah nodded as she braced herself again. The next contraction building. “Machines downstairs” as she groaned through. “Can you put the bedclothes in from the washer?”

Joss promised to be right back as she dashed around. First downstairs to load the dryer with the clothes and bedding, then back upstairs, her movements accompanied by loud moans from Sarah.

She popped her head in the bedroom on the way back to find Sarah had moved to a kneeling position as if she was praying by the side of her bed, elbows on the mattress and her head in her hands.

She grabbed the waterproof cover and bedsheet as she walked back in, placing a hand on Sarah's shoulder as a sign she was back.

Sarah looked back at Joss as her hand moved down to cradle her belly, rubbing side to side.

“I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this” she groaned.  

“Don’t worry, baby’s on its way.   Let me get this sheet on and you can hopefully get more comfortable.” Joss replied as she rubbed Sarahs shoulder in a comforting manner.

Joss didn’t like fighting with bedsheets, it was probably one of her least favourite things to do with housework, but ironically when she did house calls, it was something she ended up doing practically every time to swap out stained sheets with fresh ones after the mother got cleaned up. 

She went around the side of the bed opposite to where Sarah was labouring as she looked at her gripping the mattress hard, moving one knee up so one sole was flat on the floor, the other kneeling on the floor, subconsciously opening her pelvis wider.   Joss knew she didn’t have much time.

Stuffing the tarp on the bed first, she hastily squashed the sides under the mattress and let the waterproof sheet flop over Sarahs hands as she breathed through the contraction she was currently dealing with.   It took a long time, so much so that Sarah’s contraction had finished, and she was shuffling off to the side of the room to give Joss some room to work when the next one started.   Sarah was positioned still on her knees with her head to the ground resting on her hands, ass in the air as if she was praying to some sort of deity.   Her groans had become louder, higher pitched and more pronounced as each had happened in the bedroom.

Joss threw on the top sheet after securing the waterproof one, and once more the time taken to fix it into place resulted in Sarah reaching the end of her contraction and asking Joss to check her.  She could feel something moving, coming down… descending.

***

“We’re beginning our descent.   Please fasten your seatbelts, return your seats to their upright position, open your window blinds, and put your tray table away.  The cabin crew will make a final inspection through the cabin, but we should be on land in 20 minutes.   There will be an approximate 10 minute taxi to the terminal.  If this is your ultimate destination, welcome home, and if you are transferring through this airport, please check the boards upon your arrival for your onward flight. I would like to thank you all for flying with us today.”

The tannoy speaker caused the cabin to rumble into motion.   People were shuffling around putting things in bags in the overhead bins, resetting their seats, and all other activities associated with coming in to land.   All Tony could think of was “nearly home.”

***

Sarah had managed to get up onto the bed aided by Joss who in turn had two fingers buried deep between her legs and was checking her progress.   She nodded and confirmed that Sarah was 9cm dilated, so would likely feel incredible urges to push, but she should still try and breathe through them rather than actively push, let her body stretch to let the final bit of lip move out of the way.

Sarah could only nod as Joss withdrew her fingers and pulled off the glove she wore.

“Help me to my hands and knees?” Sarah managed as Joss helped her first lift up off the bed, turn 180 degrees and climb back up.   The contraction that soon followed had Sarah grab hold tight to her pillow, burying her head in the material as she yelled out, loud and screaming.   The noise was very much muffled though.

“Good girl, good job, not much more time left.   Soon be pushing!” came the voice of Joss from behind her, rubbing her back.

“Go fetch my phone please.” Sarah gasped as the contraction faded.  “I want to see if Tony has replied to my earlier message.”   She realised it had been several hours now.  Perhaps whatever he was doing had finished, and perhaps he had rung her a dozen times trying to find out any updates.

Joss headed back downstairs to grab the phone from the armrest of the sofa and brought it back up.  She saw there were no missed call notifications on the screen when she picked it up, but didn’t want to announce that to Sarah, would let her discover that for herself.

As Sarah got the screen and found the same, she opened the phone, set it on speaker mode and dialled Tony’s number again, once more a voicemail prompt greeted her from the other side of the call.

She only called to update him. She knew she would be giving birth to their baby without him, she’d prepared for it, planned for it. Tony was devastated that he’d likely not be there for the birth of their child and so despite their geographical distance Sarah was keen to try and keep Tony in the loop as much as she could throughout this process, even if he couldn’t be here. But the second the voicemail prompt played the recording of her husband’s voice, Sarah’s resolve immediately shattered. She was in too much pain, too exhausted, too uncomfortable, too hot, too thirsty…. Everything was wrong and suddenly she couldn’t imagine doing this without him.

“Tony…” she whimpered towards the phone on her pillow, her body shifting on hands and knees atop the bed. “…hoooo…. The baby’s nearly h-here…” she sobbed. “Joss is with me, don’t worry…”

“Hi Tony” Joss chimed in from the background. “Sarah is doing amazing, everything is going perfectly. You’ll be a dad soon.”

“-hooo….Joss says I’m at 9cm… I can feel the baby, our baby… they’re almost here. Ooohhh honey I wish you w-were here… I don’t want to have to do this without you. I can’t do it without… ohhhh… Hooohooo… oh Joss!!… I-need-to-push-I-need-to-push!!” Sarah cried out with a deep groan and shifted on the bed, and in the movement her hand brushed against her phone abruptly hanging up the call.

“It’s okay lovely, don’t panic.” Joss instructed calmly. “You’re doing wonderfully. If you can, try and pant through it. But only if you can, if your body gives a slight push don’t worry, it knows what it’s doing. And once this contraction is finished I’ll have a quick check to see if we’ve made it to ten. Okay?” Joss perched on the bed beside Sarah, her hand rubbing up and down the labouring woman’s flat back as she rocked and panted and whimpered through this latest contraction. Sarah could only nod her head in response to confirm she’d heard and understood.

In a cruel twist of irony, As Sarah was making that call, Tony was queued in passport control still not bothering to turn on his phone. It was after 3am local time and the airport was practically empty. The first batch of passengers for the next batch of red eye flights were milling around but aside from the relatively short queue at passport control from this flight there were almost no staff on site. He gritted his teeth at the two processing staff on the desks as he knew they wouldn’t have opened every desk for this time of the day… he just wanted to be home.

As he finally stepped through the other side with a stamped passport in hand, he turned on the phone as he walked towards baggage reclaim. Some 30 seconds later he was surprised by a chime on his phone and notification of both 2 missed calls and 2 voicemails. He looked down and he seen they were from Sarah.

His heartbeat picked up a pace as he dialled into his messenger. What he heard relayed through the phone speakers felt like his blood had turned to ice.

He might be too late. He checked the time of the last call, it was only a few minutes ago. He frantically dialled Sarah’s number.

Sarah in turn was wailing. It was getting too much. She wanted the baby out, she wanted to push, she wanted Tony to be there. The alien sound of the music playing from the phone on the pillow shocked both her and Joss into momentary silence.

Sarah managed a moment of focus and gasped “Tony” as she realised the name on the screen and forgetting she was currently mid contraction her hand frantically reached for the phone. Half a second to answer the call, another fraction of a second to switch to speaker and finally… “Tony is that you?” She gasped, the pain and shakiness in her voice more than evident.

“Yes baby it’s me. Have I missed it? Do we have our baby.” He sounded frantic himself.

“No Tony, where are you? Can you stay on the call, I need you, I need to push!” She groaned through the contraction.

“Baby…. I’m… Baby… Surprise I’m back home.” Tony managed to blurt out. “I’m at the airport. I’ve gotten special leave. I was going to shock you at home but it seems you got me instead. I’m jumping in a taxi now and I’ll be home soon. Please if you can, hold on.”

Tony could hear the grunting and moaning of his wife through the earpiece of the phone. It took a few moments for her to compose herself until Sarah managed a reply,

“Hurry. I’ll try not to push but it’s harder and harder with each minute. I can feel the head. It’s bulging between my legs.”

Joss was witness to that statement. She had watched Sarah huff and puff her way through several contractions trying not to push but her own body couldn’t be stopped. She knew the head was moving past her pubic bone and she would soon be pushing, no attempt to prevent pushing would likely work now. She leaned over to whisper into Sarah’s ear,

“Just pant when you feel the urge. We can try and hold off as long as we can.” Speaking a little louder for Tony’s benefit “she’s doing great, but you better find a taxi driver willing to put his foot down!”

Forgetting any thoughts of collecting his luggage, Tony rushed through baggage claim and headed straight for the doors beneath the sign “Nothing to declare” and he burst frantically into arrivals. All the while the sounds of Sarah panting and groaning played in his ear through the phone he was gripping tightly at his head.

“You’re doing wonderful sweetie, keep breathing.” Tony tried to encourage, his own breath laboured as he ran through arrivals, out the exit, and into the cold night air.

It was the middle of the night, the airport was quiet and when he got outside he saw there were no taxi’s parked by the doors. His stomach plummeted; Sarah was literally giving birth right now, he was so close to home, so close to making it for the arrival of his child. Why the hell were there no taxi’s!?!

His hand ran through his dishevelled hair as he looked up and down the road, heart thumping in his chest. Meanwhile Sarah could be heard grunting down the phone followed by a panicked cry of “Oh no! I’m pushing!”

“You looking for the taxi rank mate?” Someone asked, Tony turned to find an airport staff employee on his left who’d come out for a smoke.

“Yes, where are the taxis?” Tony asked desperately.

“Just up there ‘round the corner. They moved it few weeks back.” The stranger instructed.

Tony immediately set off in a run up the pavement, shouting a “Thank you!” back at the man.

“Hold on honey I’m on my way!” Tony breathed heavily down the phone as he jogged and saw the glorious sight of 6 taxi’s parked by the other airport exit.

Sarah’s face was buried in the pillow, backside in the air, as her body involuntarily pushed. Her hands pulled and squeezed the feather pillow while her groaning had turned primal. She lifted her head gasping for breath and fearfully asked Joss “is the baby coming out??”

“Not yet dearie, don’t worry. But it’s coming down, I can see the very top of its head when you push.” Joss said from her position behind Sarah, sat on the bed in her patient’s dressing gown.

“I don’t want to push… Tony needs to be here…” Sarah whimpered.

“Oh honey, you’re not going to be able to prevent your body from pushing when it needs to. But it’s okay, baby is only just starting to appear. It’ll take a bit before they’re crowning so we have time.” Joss tried to keep Sarah calm, knowing how important it was for both parents to be here. But she also knew that Mother Nature could not be controlled, and the baby would come when they were good and ready. “Pant through the ones you can, and if your body starts to push just stay calm and ride it out. Okay?”

Tony stopped short at the taxi at the front of the lot, the driver not even noticing.  He tapped on the window, the driver suddenly jumping to attention and unlocking the door.

“I need a favour; I need you to go really fast… my wife is having a baby.” Tonys words were frantic.

“I’ll do whatever I can without killing us…” came the reply from the taxi driver as Tony dived into the back seat, still listening to his wife’s grunting moans from the other side of the call.   He buckled the seatbelt, and after confirming the address, they were off, narrowly avoiding screeching tires in the process.

“I’ve had to rush a mother to hospital once, but never rushed a dad back to the mum.” The taxi driver tried to say conversationally, but Tony didn’t respond, he was too busy listening to the headset at his ear and speaking words of assurance to Sarah at the other end.

“I need to see you” announced Tony as he pulled the phone away from his ear and swapped it to video mode.   Sarah managed to swap the phone modes over and in front of Tony’s eyes was his exhausted looking wife’s face, her hair bedraggled and sweaty, her face red and looking like she’d just finished running a marathon.

“Darling, you look beautiful” came Tony’s response.  Sarah managed a guffaw as the next contraction started up, filling the car with the sounds of her moaning and screaming efforts.

“I’m on my way” he announced. 

“I can’t hold on, I need to push!” came the wailing reply

“I can see the baby’s hair!” a third voice of Joss joined the conversation.

Sarah had completely lost any sort of control and was working purely on an instinctual need to deliver this baby. She had tried so hard to keep the baby inside her - not to spread her knees, not to push - desperately wanting to delay the birth long enough for Tony to make it back from the airport. However, as the baby’s head crept lower and lower, filling the birth canal, it became too overwhelming and there was absolutely nothing Sarah could do to stop her body from trying to birth the babe.

Just an hour ago Sarah had wanted nothing more than a quick and straight forward delivery, but discovering Tony was not only on his way home but already back in the country - at their nearest airport no less - had changed everything. After that, everything had changed so fast it left her spinning. Suddenly she was fighting her body’s cue’s instead of listening to them.

Rocking forward and back on all fours Sarah had endured wave after wave of agonising contractions, and every one of them pushed and squeezed of their own accord, the baby inching closer towards its exit. Joss had tried to keep her calm, help her pant through the incessant demands of her body to push, but all too soon she was bearing down without permission. She had cried out, announcing it to both Joss and Tony, and she could hear the panic in Tony’s voice as he made his way towards their family home.

Hearing her husband’s voice was her anchor, his reassuring encouragement echoing out the phone was a lifeline in the storm. And when it switched to video gave her the comfort she never knew she needed. But the contractions were too strong, her labour way too advanced for her to truly appreciate seeing him on the tiny screen. Suddenly she couldn’t hold back any more, the head felt like it was barrelling through her at speed and there was absolutely no stopping it - she had to make room, she had to widen her hips, she had to push.

Sarah suddenly announced that she was in too much pain, and flopped out of view of the camera.  “What’s happened, where are you?” came Tony’s pleading cry.

Falling on her side and grabbing her leg behind the knee, Sarah finally gave up and followed her body’s cues and gave it everything she had. The distant sounds of her husband’s voice echoed from somewhere on the bed. She didn’t know what had happened to the phone, she didn’t know how far away Tony was, all she knew was that this baby was coming and it was coming now. With senses overwhelmed, the pressure building, Sarah narrowed her world right down to just her and the baby.

Joss took the initiative and grabbed the phone from the pillow, holding it up in the direction of Sarah, who had given up trying to hold the baby in place, and had put her chin to her chest, pulled her leg back and was pushing with all her might.   Her face was scrunched up, her breath was held, and with the angle that Joss had put the phone at, Tony could see directly between Sarahs legs.   He saw the bulging skin surrounding her vagina, the parting of her lips to see the darkened spot between as the head slowly started to emerge.

“Hurry!” shouted Tony to the driver, who in turn put his foot down a little more, any pretence of sticking to the speed limits lost at this time.  He weaved in between cars doing both overtaking and undertaking to keep the pace down the motorway getting ever closer to their ultimate destination.

Joss moved back into position between Sarah’s legs and kept one hand on the phone, the other rubbed Sarahs knee as she finally gave up on the push, the head slipping back into the bulging area.   “Good girl, keep on going like that and you’ll see your baby soon.”

Sarah was wailing at this point with every push.   Tony’s heart ached each time she shouted, knowing he was only 10, maybe 15 minutes away from her.   He shouted what he could into the handset, hoping it was coming through loud enough at the other side so that Sarah could hear him over her own strained shouts.  She could feel the comforting touch of Joss’s hand on her leg, the faint words of encouragement from both her midwife and her husband as she pushed, but her focus was on the baby crowning between her legs.

“You’re doing great baby.   Another push like that.   Give it all you can, I’m here as best I can.  I’ll be back soon.  Push baby, push!”

“Tony, I need to put the phone down now” came the voice from Joss, “I need both my hands to make sure that she stretches properly.”

“Of course… do what you need to do.”  Tony was heartbroken he couldn’t see anymore, just in case his baby was born without him being able to see, but he knew that Joss had said the most sensible thing.   Suddenly his view shifted to the bedroom ceiling.

His focus instead moved to the road ahead of him.   He knew the route, he knew how long it took, he knew he was 10 minutes from home at the sort of speeds the driver was doing.   He was just thankful for early morning traffic being all but non existent.   He continued to shout encouragement down the line taking Joss’s lead as she announced when Sarah was pushing by chanting her on herself.

Finally, the taxi pulled up in front of his house.   Taking a wad of notes from his wallet, the driver was given what must have been 5 times the fair as Tony thanked him and announced “Baby, I’m here” before charging into the house and hanging up the phone.

Tony shoved the door closed behind him as he flew up the stairs two at a time, the roaring sound of Sarah’s effort ringing around the house.

He burst through the bedroom door to be met with the following scene:

Sarah had her leg pulled back and clearly visible between them was the round, bulbous shape of a baby’s head, well on its way to being born.

Between Sarah’s legs, pressing gently on her parting lips and supporting the head as it slowly emerged was Joss… though why she was dressed in a dressing gown - Sarah’s dressing gown at that - was a complete mystery.

Sarah’s eyes flew open and acknowledged Tony’s arrival with a pleading glance whilst mouthing the word ‘help’ - she didn’t manage to actually make a sound she was so exhausted and focused on the push.

Sarah suddenly closed her eyes again and once more put her chin to her chest, vocalising all the effort she was putting by yelling loudly, as Tony raced around to the other side of the bed and practically vaulted up to it on his knees, grabbing Sarah’s suddenly offered hand. This in turn caused her to let go of the leg she was holding up, so Sarah’s foot found purchase on Tony’s trousers to press against.

“Sarah you’re doing it, you’re doing so well” Tony yelled, his voice loud and proud at that moment.

“Almost there, take a breath and back at it girl” came the voice of Joss, as Sarah gasped a lung full of air and did it again.

Tony watched in fascination as the head of his child slipped further and further out until Sarah gave a grunt, and the head was finally born to the baby’s chin.

Joss worked fast as she tugged and loosened the baby’s cord, then jumped up off the bed to grab a spare towel to press around the fluid pooling between Sarahs legs and spreading over the bed - the waterproof sheet doing what it was meant to do, but the thin top sheet having nowhere near the absorbency needed.

All the while Tony was staring into Sarah’s exhausted eyes as she did the same in return, the two of them exchanging shocked babble between them;

“You did it.”

“There’s a head… I pushed out a head”

“You did so well darling”

“I’m so glad you made it, why didn’t you tell me”

“I thought you liked surprises…”

Joss cleared her throat as the other two looked her over. She was muttering to herself. “Looks like I’ll need to put this in the wash too” she said looking at the soaked dressing gown which had caught a gush of amniotic fluid as the head was pushed out.

“Actually, I’d been meaning to ask about that” Tony asked, finally having a moment to breathe and assess the situation.

“Later…” grunted Sarah as she gripped tight against his hand and closed her eyes again. “Baby’s coming”

Sarah’s leg shook as she dived into the next push. She could feel the baby’s shoulders, pressing and stretching, feeling like it was pulling her apart. Without her hand to hold up her leg the trembling limb started to lower, legs drifting towards each other in an unconscious attempt to lessen the pain.

“No… Sarah keep them open. Your baby’s almost here.” Joss instructed, then turned to Tony “Support her leg, keep it raised.”

Tony kept one hand for Sarah to squeeze and used the other to support her shaking leg as the baby turned and inched its way in to the world. “I can see their face! You’re doing amazing honey, keep going!”

Releasing a primal wail at the end of a big but unproductive push Sarah suddenly flopped her head down on the pillow. “Hooo- why won’t it come out?” She whimpered through gasped breath.

“It’s okay Sarah, you are doing brilliantly. I can see the shoulders, you’re so, so close.” Joss gave Sarah’s thigh a comforting pat, her hands poised above the baby’s head ready to help their exit if required. “I think they’ll be here on the next one if you give us a really big push dearie. Now did mum or dad want to deliver the baby?” Joss asked the soon-to-be-parents.

“No…. Don’t… don’t touch…” Sarah grumbled waving a hand in the space between her legs to deter anyone getting too close. Her eyes were closed and she was focussed on her deep breaths, gathering her strength for the final hurdle.

“That’s okay, we’ll do whatever you want hun.” Joss assured and moved her hands up in surrender, but stayed close by.

Sarah growled and grunted as she pushed, swept away by the contraction and the primal need to deliver the baby. Pushing hard and with everything she had, the labouring mother shook from head to toe, the physical strain showing her monumental effort

The bedroom held a collective breath, feeling like time had stopped. Sarah had gone eerily quiet as her face reddened and knuckles whitened, and then with a gasp of sheer relief the baby slid from its mother onto the towels.

“Oh my god oh my god… my baby…” Sarah incoherently babbled, eyes flying open and hands reaching.

Tony watched the birth of his baby… his son in mute amazement. Suddenly lying there in between Sarah’s legs was this wriggling thing that looked so messy but equally so perfect. He suddenly realised he had tears in his eyes - this big strong burly man who killed for a living suddenly having this other being he would give his life for to protect.

All those thoughts shot through his mind in an instant as only a few seconds later, before either he or Joss could react to Sarah reaching between her legs for the baby, it let out a loud cry.

Joss proceeded to lift the baby up to Sarah’s hands as she in turn lifted the baby to her chest, exhausted pants signalling the end of her ordeal.

As the baby settled into the warmth of his mother’s chest, it still didn’t help calm the yowls of crying he was determined to release.

Tony leaned in and kissed both his wife and his son in turn, wrapping his arms in an embrace around them both… though of course refusing to squeeze too hard just in case.

Over the course of the next 30 minutes Joss oversaw the delivery of the placenta and cut the umbilical cord, whilst Sarah provided the baby’s first feed.

As the sun rose on a new day, the baby’s vitals were taken as Tony helped Sarah get cleaned up.

All that was going through his mind during that time was to thank his luck that he managed to make it back in time.

[alicentofhightower]

the dragon and the crab

pairing: aegon targaryen x fem!celtigar!reader

synopsis: boys seem to catch your eye more, as of late. you wonder if that’s the reason why you’re helping this drunken fool of a prince.

includes: drunk aegon, he’s actually not that bad here. so sorry if this is ooc this is my first time writing a oneshot for him!

WC: 1.5k

a/n: this was written with ty tennant’s aegon in mind because it’s set during laena velaryon’s funeral, but you can envision tgc’s aegon too i don’t really care. i did not proofread this so im sorry for any mistakes, i literally just wrote this on my phone in bed because i miss aegon and im bored. i might write a part 2 idk

-

The first time Aegon sees you, he cannot help but wonder why you take such a liking to Helaena.

Laena Velaryon’s funeral had been an uneventful one. A bore, to be honest, but his mother would smack him if he’d ever voiced that thought aloud. He’d never known the noblewoman well. Honestly, his mind was more preoccupied with the looming thought of his upcoming wedding.

It was tradition for Targaryens to be married to relative. They’d practiced it for hundreds of years, long before the doom of Old Valyria. His mother had always seemed so intent on practicing the customs of her Andal forbears, and Aegon wished she’d been the same for his marriage.

Deep down, he knew why Helaena would be his wife. It was to keep her close to Alicent. If she’d been wed to some fat lord in the Riverlands, or a foolish one from the Reach, it would make no difference; there was no real confirmation that she’d ever be kept safe. His mother would not have another Aemma be made of her only daughter.

“We have nothing in common,” Aegon complained, constantly having to brush his silver waves away from his face. The wind from the beach was relentless.

He stood off to the side next to Aemond, away from where you yourself sat next to the Princess. She seemed to speak in riddles, with the way she mumbled of ‘spools of green and black’, but you did not mind. You could tell she was of a sweet nature.

Helaena handed you another shell to hold, her fingertips tracing the texture of it. “She’s our sister,” interjected Aemond.

Everything about Aegon was improper. The way he could not seem to let go of his cup of wine for even a minute, the way his eyes wandered towards the skittish maids, even down to his posture; hunched and lazy. “You marry her, then,” The elder prince said, his fingers loose around his chalice. If he wasn’t careful, he’d probably drop it, make a fool of himself as he always had.

“I would perform my duty. If mother had only betrothed us.” Aemond did not speak out of genuine desire for his sister, only his yearning to be the firstborn son. To be given the duties of his unwilling brother.

“If only,” He scoffed.

His blue eyes traveled to where you were, listening closely to every word of his weird soon-to-be wife. Aegon did not pay much attention to his Old Valyrian lessons, much less his history, but even he could recognize which house you were from by the dress you wore; ivory and scarlet, the colors of House Celtigar.

Your house was a Valyrian one itself, though far less proud than the one of his own or the Velaryons. You wore a veil of mourning to honor the late Lady Laena, but he could see the earrings you adorned beneath it; crabs, closely resembling your sigil.

You could not hear what the young princes spoke of, but your eyes had averted over to them occasionally, though most of your attention was paid to Aegon. His face was scrunched together as he studied you, trying to figure out why you’d ever willingly be in the company of Helaena. Mayhaps you were just as off-putting as she was.

Blooming into womanhood, you could not help but take notice of boys your age; Aegon himself was quite handsome, though lustful and foolish, and your mother had personally warned you to stay away from him on the way to Driftmark. It only made you want to talk to him more.

Soon enough, Aegon made his way over to another servant, grabbing the pitcher on the platter she held and pouring himself more Arbor gold… away from where you were. You wondered if that’d be the last you saw of him.

-

It wasn’t.

Sleep had escaped you. Taking a stroll outside was far more appealing than tossing and turning in your bed, so you’d wrapped your robe around your nightgown and snuck out of your chambers.

You almost gasped when you saw him. There he was, at the end of the stairs, drunk and hiccuping with his eyes closed. He sat against the stone of the railing, head drooping and hands still grasping his goblet tightly.

“My Prince?”

No response.

Descending down the steps, you poked his hunched shoulder. He did not even start. It took a harsh shake of his forearm to wake him, and Aegon threw his head back when he did, smacking it against the marble behind him.

Aegon’s pale hand flew to cradle the back of his skull. He hissed, features squeezing together as he let out a sharp breath. It reeked of wine, and he appeared to be startled that he hadn’t been smacked yet. “Grandsire?” He asked, eyes still scrunched shut.

“No,” You said softly. “It’s just me, my Prince.”

His eyelids shot open. It took a moment for him to recognize you. “Why are you out here? Shouldn’t you be abed?”

Gods, maybe your lady mother was right about avoiding him. He’d already begun to irritate you, and you’d been speaking to him for less than a minute. “Shouldn’t you?”

His head lolled to the side, falling to rest on his shoulder. “What will you do? Tattle on me to my mother? I’ve already been scolded today,” He grumbled, his words slightly slurred.

Really, you should just leave this fool of a prince alone, act like this never happened, and climb back into bed. You won’t. It’s normal for men of his age to indulge in their vices, but some part of you tells you that this is wrong; that he shouldn’t be out here in the cold night, slumped into a mess of his own limbs. You feel bad.

Boldly, you reach forward again, grasping his wrist. “Come on,” You say to Aegon, your tone softer. “I’ll help you back to your chambers.”

“I’m too tired.”

He yelps when you yank him up, stumbling forward, his hands scrambling to grab your shoulders to keep him upright. “You should not treat a Prince so roughly.” Despite his words, Aegon allows you to wrap an arm about his shoulders, guiding him forward.

His eyes are wide as he looks down at you, seemingly trying to figure out why you’d pour this much time into someone you don’t even know. There’s a flush becoming all the more apparent on his face, and unbeknownst to you, it’s not because of the wine.

You’re sure there will be a scandal made out of this. An unmarried young noble-lady taking King Viserys’s firstborn son, drunk, back to his chambers during the hour of the owl? Certainly the maids will begin to whisper false tales of your relationship with the Prince, and your father will reprimand you on the ship back to Claw Isle. He might have you married even sooner to dispel them. You cannot find it in yourself to care.

“This way,” You whisper, walking towards where the innermost hall is, where the royal chambers are. Aegon’s steps are uneven and irregular. If you’d not been holding him, he’d probably have fallen twice already.

He’s even more beautiful under the torchlight. Soft cheekbones and plush lips, he’s the very image of his mother, though he certainly does not act like it. Your lips almost part at the feeling of his nose nudging against your cheek, though you attempt to ignore it.

He’s drunk, you tell yourself. Pay no mind to him.

The knights on patrol raise their brows at the sight of you when you make your way past them. An awkward position you’re in. Both his and your arm are wrapped around the other’s shoulders, and his knees are bent so he can be at the level of your face. He’s not even looking forward to where you’re trying to go, his eyes analyzing the look on your face.

He was so talkative when you woke him. You wonder why he’s gone quiet, but reason it to be that he’s exhausted. “What’s your name, again?” He sputters.

He nods rapidly when you tell him it, as if he’ll remember it on the morrow.

Finally, you make it to his room; even the doors to it are grand and tall, befitting one of his status. Yours are farther away from his, in the corridors practically across the keep. It’ll be a long walk back.

You find you don’t know what to say. “…Well, good night, my Prince,” You say softly, letting go of him to let him stand by himself. He wobbles.

Aegon turns to leave, but whips his head around before his pale hand can grasp the handle of the door, his eyes darting around the features of your face. He wants to remember you, it seems.

“You won’t stay?” He can barely pronounce the words correctly, let alone stand up, choosing to lean on the door behind him to keep his balance. Somehow, it’s both endearing and pathetic.

Your cheeks flush at the mere idea of following him into his bedchamber. What was he thinking?

“No, my Prince. It’s best I leave you be.”

Aegon nods solemnly at that, tongue running over his slightly chapped lips. He bows his head in thought, then raises it again, a peculiar glint in his eye that you cannot decipher.

“….’s Aegon. Just Aegon,” He says, quiet, like it’s a secret only the two of you know.

“Good night, Aegon.”

[the-clock-of-the-time-dragon]

Okay so hear me out... [Massive spoilers and speculation on Wicked films ahead]

It's apparent that Wicked Part 2 is going to have new, expanded, and altered scenes — but by far the most tantalizing is implied by the first scene of the first film.

We see a cloaked figure on horseback fleeing from Kiamo Ko after the Melting, and then we see Dorothy, Tin Man, Cowardly Lion, and the Scarecrow on the Yellow Brick Road back to the Emerald City. This is in keeping with the 1939 Wizard of Oz, which implies something hugely important about the plot of Wicked Part 2: the musical's original ending has been changed.

In the original stage version, Fiyero comes back to Kiamo Ko after getting his diploma brain from the Wizard and all that, and Elphaba comes out from her little trapdoor, and then they leave Oz together without telling anyone. It's unclear (on purpose, obviously), but it seems very apparent that the cloaked rider we see at the start of the 2024 film is Elphaba. This leaves us with a few possibilities for how the plot will unfold in Part 2.

1.) Elphaba simply leaves alone, telling nobody — not even Fiyero — that she's alive. I am okay with this, since honestly the way that the finale of the musical was written has always felt kinda clunky and borderline plot-holey to me.

2.) They still end up having the original ending happen, just switched around the order of some of the events. Maybe Elphaba escapes first but then finds Fiyero alone elsewhere somehow, and in the end still leaves Oz with him. I'd accept it — it is probably the most likely version they might go with — but with all the changes being made, I would be a little disappointed if it ends up this way ngl, when they have the chance to make a new ending that far surpasses the original.

3.) Elphaba leaves alone BUT makes Glinda and/or Fiyero aware of her survival somehow. This is actually a surprisingly plausible option I think, since Elphaba in the original show immediately wanted to tell Glinda she was alive (with Fiyero talking her out of it — which may not be a thing that happens anymore); and just IMAGINE how poignant heartrending it would be if Glinda were to find the old Emerald City guide with the note she wrote her in it, but with "I hope you get what your heart desires" in it in Elphie's handwriting, or something like that. Maybe even with Glinda singing her final "Good News!" after seeing it — leaving the door open that Glinda might have a chance to find her Elphie someday. Or hell, if they wanted to they could use the closing lines of the book in some form: the classic "did she ever come out?" and "not yet" (which of course itself has some delightfully sapphic undertones)

4.) Mostly wishful thinking on the part of my very very sapphic ass, but... can you fucking IMAGINE if they dared to rewrite an ending where Elphaba finds Glinda and asks her one more time "come with me..."?? And then they LEAVE OZ TOGETHER??? Not as plausible an answer as the others, I know — but can't a girl dream? I mean they set it up so well, if nothing else it's THERE for them to use if they decided to have the courage. In the first movie Elphaba says "come with me" twice to Glinda: first when she asks Glinda to come with her to the Emerald City (her 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽’𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓻𝓮), and lastly when she asks Glinda to come with her on her broomstick and escape (which of course Glinda refuses). If they decided to give Glinda a second chance to say yes and go with her, and this time she takes it... I mean, it would just be a really solid payoff to the material already established and obviously would also short-circuit all our gay little hearts. And the fact it's even conceivable they COULD do that is really exciting in and of itself. It isn't 2003 anymore, the stars are very on board for queerness — the only thing really reining in my hopes is the fact a major Hollywood family film blockbuster (even in 2024, sadly) usually can't bite the bullet and go full gay: BUT, who said it would have to be explicitly gay if Elphaba and Glinda leave together? Who's to say we couldn't get them And They Were Very Good Friends-ing away into the sunset together? No Homo as the plausible deniability needed to pull off the best sapphic victory in movie history? Oops, there go my hopes again, trying to defy gravity, lol

[lafortezaboy]

request: "could i req something fluffy of like yunjin or kazuha being down bad for fem!reader and trying to ask them out? :("

warnings/triggers: fluff, non idol au, fem!reader

it wasn't that you were popular, because you weren't. it was simply that yunjin wasn't. she wasn't picked on or teased by any means, your university was much more respectable than to allow that, but while you made friends with everyone, she stuck to her little group. where you could make conversation with anyone, she could put her foot in her mouth. luckily for her, it was one of the many traits of hers you found adorable.

you weren't stupid. you knew about the crush she had on you, and you'd known about it since the day you asked her to help you study for an english final, knowing she was at the top of your class. the blushing and the tripping over her words throughout the whole study session had been cute, so cute you couldn't help but ask to make studying together a regular thing despite still not really understanding the material.

months later though, you wished she weren't so shy, and would just ask you out already. you saw how she was with chaewon, how flirty and confident she could be when not talking to you. as cute as her not knowing how to handle you flirting with her was, you really wanted to kiss her.

you weren't sure who convinced her to make a move finally, but you wanted to get them flowers or a fruit basket or something. it wasn't uncommon for you to tag along with her and sakura to see a new movie, but tonight it was different. it was just the two of you, for starters, and she was doing everything that a date would. she'd opened your car door for you, paid for your snacks, sat right next to you instead of leaving the seat between you open like usual. honestly, seeing her so different, so relaxed with you, it made you feel things the blushing and the stuttering didn't. that was adorable, but this?? god, you just wanted to keep her all to yourself.

as the movie progressed, you found yourself wanting to hold her hand, but you didn't want to push her too far. so you rested your arm against hers, something that could be written off as casual just in case. a few minutes later though, you felt her fingers tracing little patterns into the back of your hand, and you couldn't help but offer her your palm instead. her touch was soft, hesitant almost, but it was more than enough. as soon as she was brave enough, her fingers laced with yours, and you didn't let go of her hand for the rest of the night.

you were still holding onto her as you made your way out of the theater, heading towards her car. ""i had a lot of fun tonight," she said, looking back at you, and the little smile on her face made your heart skip a beat. "i did too," you replied, squeezing her hand gently. that made her pause, just for a split second, and you saw the nerves beginning to bubble up again.

it seemed she wasn't letting this newfound confidence go, because she pushed through, stopping by the passenger seat door. "maybe we could do it again sometime? like ... like as a date?" she asked. it was the worst time to giggle, but you couldn't help it. her face quickly fell, and you rushed to explain yourself.

"hey, look at me," you said, free hand reaching up to grasp her chin gently. "i would love to go on a date with you. i just think it's cute you took me on a date to ask me on a date." you watched as the words sunk in, and her cheeks flushing had nothing to do with the cold. your hand moved to cup her cheek then, gently stroking your thumb over her cheek as you looked at her.

"i've been waiting on you to ask me out, you know that?" you asked her, and when she shook her head you smiled, because of course she hadn't noticed you felt the same. "i have been, for a while. you could anything you wanted from me."

that seemed to catch her attention, because her eyes instantly shot down to your lips, and you couldn't help but stare right back at hers. you'd thought about her lips far too many times. "what about ..." she began, her eyes flickering back up to yours. "what about a kiss then? if this was already a date?" she asked, and you didn't even think about answering her with words. you lean up then, hand still on her face, and press your lips against hers.

the kiss is slow, a little timid, but god were her lips soft. when her hands find your waist, you scoot in closer to her, and the whole world stop s around the two of you as you let yourself finally get lost in her.

[potions-of-dark-devotion]

Gotta Get This off my Chest

Severus Snape & HBO Series

Alright first off, I know you are generally expecting well thought out essays from me but here I’m going to Ramble Freeform. You’ve been warned.

I don’t know how I feel at all about another actor attempting to play Severus Snape. JK Rowling is the main producer and honestly this worries me a lot considering the amount of hatred she has for LGBTQ people and the amount of hatred Severus has gotten in the last years. This space is bad sometimes but generally we have a fantastic community of people in this snapedom who love the character as he is written positives and negatives. I for one liked Snape from the first book I read and the first movie I watched.

I’ll be the first to admit that my image of him is very much wrapped up in Alan Rickman, and tho I greatly respect other peoples images of snape and I love the fan art they make, the thing that made Alan such an amazing character actor for the part was the unabashed love he had for the character. Look at any interview of him about Severus and you will see that he went to bat for him at every turn. What if we we are given someone who sees Snape through the eyes of the marauders fandom? What if they erase all of Snapes goodness or heaven forbid write extra scenes of cruelty to Lily that didn’t exist, or have him creep over her, or physically attack her, or characterize him as the aggressor with James when we all know it was the other way around? These kinds of fears keep me from being excited about the new series and instead leave me anxious.

For one thing, I wish they had focused more on a different period of wizard history, or a different part of the 1st wizarding war or even marauders/young Severus era, because there is so much to explore. I would have liked to explore story lines that really could use more fleshing out, and if JK Rowling is going to be a part of this she could have easily written new passages or short stories to suit this new narrative. I also worry about the fact that yet again because she is a producer there will certainly be no LGBTQ characters in the narrative and that’s a waste to me. We already have a fantastic interpretation of the books, and if they are doing a redo why not cast people of color or trans or any LGBT characters in the mix? It will be the same story just perhaps fleshed out more? I’m not sure what this series will bring to the table that the movies did not unless they radically change some things.

Yet, with this interpretation we may see many thing in the series that we don’t see in the books. Severus has two big scenes at the end of POA and GOF that were totally left out of the movies, and if this was left in and the “prank” was explored more in depth we could get to see an even more complex narrative than Alan was allowed to portray in the movies (largely due to directorial choices).

Severus as we all know is a complex character that can be different or difficult to understand without a trauma informed lense and the last thing I want is for them to shove him into a gross stereotype, or give him attributes that don’t exist in the books in order to cater to certain fandoms. I’m genuinely worried about the prospect of this. I also don’t want our fandom safe spaces that we’ve spent years curating to be over run with Snape hate again just because of the series. I could be being pessimistic. It’s just been on my mind lately.

No hard feelings it’s just…Severus Snape is my comfort character and I don’t want the idea of it ruined by people who don’t really understand him or who wouldn’t bat for him the way Alan did. Please understand me. Does anyone else have mixed feelings this way?

[thus-wrote-mrs-zeppeli]

Hello! I have a request. Can I have some head canons about how La Squadra would react if you were disrespected by someone? Let’s say their s/o (preferably female) works at a cafe or restaurant and a rude customer throws the money at her, completely expecting her to pick up the bill from the floor (yes, that is a real experience I’ve had, unfortunately).

How would they react? What would they do afterwards or say?

Would really, REALLY appreciate it. Honestly, I wish someone had stood up for me back then.

Author’s note: Hey hey~

Thanks for the request~

Sorry no one stood up for you, what happened to human decency?

And I can totally relate, the entitlement of people is insane. Two days in to my very first job as a cashier I had a customer say some really atrociously awful things to me and I just took it because I didn’t know what else to do and afterwards my managers told me I should’ve called them wow. Like my manager literally wouldn’t repeat what the customer had said because it was so abhorrently inappropriate and disgusting.

So yeah. Respect employees, we’re all human beings here it’s literally so easy to Not be insanely rude.

Interestingly enough I actually had some thoughts on this written in my personal La Squadra notes, particularly in regard to Prosciutto since he gives me lots of thoughts about stuff similar to that, cool that I get to address that heh.

-La Squadra x female reader: When someone disrespects you

Content, PLZ READ: female reader who works as a waitress, discussion of unhealthy and toxic masculinity paired with sexism (Prosciutto), La Squadra is a group of (mostly) pretty aggressive men who act on that feeling so. Some canon compliant aggression, threats, violence and blood. They’re a group of assassins so Lots of Bad men doing bad things. Melone’s slightly perverse tendencies

Various scenarios involving rude customers, including the example in the ask.

Established relationship: dating/married depending on the character

Ok while writing this it’s finally really hitting me how bizarre it’d be to be a non stand user witnessing or experiencing a stand attack-

Reader is aware of stands and that her La Squadra man is a member of the Mafia

And attempts at Italian hopefully it’s correct but if not please lemme know!

Micro fics style

-Formaggio: Out of all the members of La Squadra he’s noticeably much more chill and relaxed than the others. But he’s still a proud member of the Italian Mafia. And you’re his girl. He’s no knight in shining armor or Prince Charming for you, he won’t intervene when there’s an occasional irritable customer giving you a bit of a hard time. He knows you can take care of yourself.

However, if some entitled customer has the audacity to go too far and say or do something Really disrespectful while he’s around, I think he has a preference for good old-fashioned humiliation, and only results to intimidation if they decide they wanna keep making a fool of themselves.

He plays it up like: “ooh, hey, if you wanted that pretty lady’s attention there are much better ways to get it, buddy.”

You don’t have to add anything. You resume work quietly, but keep your eyes and ears focused on him, in case he decided to get carried away.

After a little bit of back and forth with him using his usual coolness and charisma, the offender gets increasingly frustrated and flustered.

When your boyfriend’s finally had enough of this stupid game he stands up from his table. His playfully mocking expression remains, but his smirk shifts ever so slightly into something more sinister. “If you want we could just take this outside,” he says it so casually, with the tone of a man who wasn’t going to hold back if it actually did escalate into a fight. He was not bluffing at all either.

At full height and with the clear confidence that he was absolutely gonna win the fight, the rude customer wisely decides Formaggio was Not someone he wanted to mess with and awkwardly leaves the restaurant, Formaggio loudly exclaiming taunts as the guy skittered away with his tail between his legs.

He seems awfully pleased with himself after “defending your honor” like that. You let him enjoy that feeling, because honestly that was pretty well done and it didn’t get too ugly. He has some nerve expecting a bunch of praise from you for that though.

-Illuso: Someone saying or doing something rude to you is like insulting him as well. And his stand is uniquely qualified for an entertaining punishment against some arrogant idiot giving you a difficult time.

Illuso doesn’t say anything, but when you look over at him while some jerk is screaming his head off at you like it’s your fault his food took five minutes longer than usual to arrive, you see that he’s pretending to fix up his appearance in a fancy compact mirror you had gifted him on your one year anniversary.

You can tell immediately he’s actually angling it at the guy screaming at you so he can activate Man in the Mirror. You inwardly groan because honestly you welcome your husband’s interference, but it will be difficult to explain a man magically disappearing in the middle of a restaurant, especially while he’s causing such a scene with that excessive screeching.

All of a sudden…silence. Such a sudden silence that the sound of Illuso clasping his mirror shut is audible to you from where you’re standing. Of course all the customers were looking at that guy who was freaking out at you. And he literally vanished before their eyes. So you do the only thing you can think of and spread your arms in an exaggerated manner and go: “Ta-DAAAH~” like the supernatural disappearance was just a magic trick.

In a rather weak attempt to sell it, Illuso starts slowly clapping for you and commenting: “molto bene~”. You can’t muster an annoyed glare at him; the slight smile tugging at your lips gave you away. A few customers join him in clapping, a bit confused, but honesty just glad that the yelling has stopped.

Illuso’s version of torment is to leave the guy completely alone in the mirror world. Confusion combined with isolation is a cruel combination, and given his captor was Illuso who was absolutely bound to prolong the punishment because of his sadistic tendencies, you almost feel sorry for the guy.

“Make sure you let him go by this evening,” you remind him before you get back to work.

“Let who go, dearie?” he says, his acting pathetically bad.

Sigh. So he was going to play it that way…

“I’m serious,” you grumble.

“Me too.”

You meet his eyes at that remark, and his smug smirk tells you he wants to see if you’ll keep nagging him about it.

When you don’t indulge him he’ll get bored and let the guy go. Hopefully that brat learned a lesson. And if not, at least he has a story literally no one will believe.

-Prosciutto: Despite not being a very nice man to you, he’s got that ridiculous belief that only he’s allowed to be harsh to you. It’s “tough love” when he’s hyper critical of you or snaps at you for something small, but if anyone else does it to an excessive degree then it’s apparently unacceptable, rude behavior. Really it’s just his pride as a man and unhealthy view of masculinity that causes him to freak out when you’re disrespected. He’s your fiancé…By his logic, you need him to protect you, and it’s his job as a man to do so.

He’s a big hypocrite.

But at least he stands up for you.

You could usually feel Prosciutto watching when a customer started to get a little ornery with you. He wouldn’t always step in, unless something he deemed entirely disrespectful was said or done; he does think dealing with irritable people is okay for you until they get carried away.

It looked like he wasn’t going to intervene this time over the dirtbag being extraordinarily picky and fussy with you, just because he liked bossing essential workers around apparently. Prosciutto was listening, as usual, but didn’t seem too concerned, drinking his coffee disinterestedly. Until the customer decided to toss a crumpled up napkin at you when you turned around.

Ohhh boy, you didn’t even have to LOOK to know the coffee mug getting slammed down on a table was Prosciutto.

You debate what you should do. He strides past you, and you opt to just…hold still and listen for a moment. Pretend you don’t know him, and let him do whatever it is he’s about to do (though you have a pretty good guess what it is).

Despite all the tough talk he was doing before, that customer couldn’t hide the slight panic in his voice at Proscuitto’s sudden approach.

Unlike a lot of Passione members who preferred to hide their affiliation to the mafia, Prosciutto wasn’t nearly as subtle with that tailored suit, open shirt and the demeanor of a man who’s killed before and will kill again.

“Hey who the hell do you think you are?! Stay away from m-” the jerk’s nervous ranting is cut off by Prosciutto dragging him to his feet by the collar of his shirt.

“You dropped something,” Prosciutto says in that certain tone you’ve grown all too familiar with. He uses it often when he’s pissed off or teaching a lesson or both at the same time.

Before the man can even squeak out the beginnings of some sort of excuse or counter he’s gagging, and you turn around to stop Prosciutto from straight up choking the guy by shoving the same napkin he tossed at you down his throat, speaking about how disgustingly disrespectful it was to throw anything at a woman.

“Hey, I think he gets it,” you cut in.

You wonder if he’s actually gonna listen to you this time. For a moment it seems like he might ignore you and continue the lesson. But he decides you may have a point and that he’s not worth the trouble. Though it doesn’t stop him from roughly shoving the guy to the ground when he lets go of his shirt.

“Make sure you add an apology when you pay the check,” he says to the sniveling man on the floor desperately telling himself not to make a run for it like a coward now that Prosciutto’s back was turned.

You don’t know whether to smile or roll your eyes, knowing all your fiancé meant was that he better leave you a generous tip as compensation for such disrespectful behavior.

“Go smoke outside,” is all you say to him when you see Prosciutto reach for the pack of cigarettes in his jacket. He smoked when he was especially irritated; so he went through a lot of cigarettes. He waves his hand dismissively at you, but obeys and goes outside. Though he stays close to the entrance. He’s making it clear he’s not leaving til you’re getting paid well for all that trouble.

The guy ended up practically handing his wallet to you.

Prosciutto internally checks off his: do one good thing for his fiancée today mission.

-Pesci: He’s not the most confrontational of La Squadra, and there’s no love lost between the murderous members of the team beyond a mild respect for each other’s strength (and that’s only sometimes) but he’s more than familiar with how most of the other assassins handle disrespect or things they don’t like in public with violence and aggression (hard glares at Ghiaccio and Prosciutto in particular). And that usually results in them getting asked to leave the premises, how embarrassing-

He doesn’t want to embarrass you either when a particularly volatile customer started screaming at you and freaking out for no valid reason. But he can’t just sit there and let you take that kind of abuse either.

He tries to excuse you from the situation by calling you over to his table like he was a customer and it was something urgent. And well…it might just escalate the irritation of that insufferable jerk screaming at you but…

You go to Pesci anyways, opting to just ignore the jerk, pretending to be busy dealing with some made up issue Pesci was improvising.

To your surprise it actually kinda worked. The guy was steaming for a bit and yelling at you from his table but. You just ignored him. And if anything actually happened Pesci was 100% capable of handling it if he had to. He didn’t usually try to start fights, but if pushed he could absolutely finish them.

“Do you usually get customers like that?” Pesci asks with genuine concern in his voice once the guy finally gets mad enough to leave (without paying but that was a problem for later).

“Well…” more often than someone who doesn’t work in food service would think…

“Sometimes,” you admit vaguely, not wanting to worry him but not wanting to lie either.

He thinks you should find some different job, not that he’s actually in a position to suggest that given he’s literally a La Squadra assassin. And you’ve heard from the few times you’ve met with his coworkers that the money they make in the business of murder is minuscule all things considered. Honestly he should get a new job too. One that didn’t rely on the occasional commission and splitting a check with eight other people.

You both know it’s not that easy to just Find a new job. And he doesn’t think it’s a great idea to suggest you get more involved in Passione for quick but dirty money…sigh…no easy solution…

-Melone: Your boyfriend was the least confrontational man in La Squadra.

Usually you encourage him to not visit you at work…because he always stares at you in such a manner that your coworkers or customers sometimes warn you about a creep in the corner booth who’s been watching you for a while.

As someone who’s used to being yelled at (though only because he’s the one being a FREAK so it doesn’t Really count) he’s sure you can handle the occasional ornery customer who decided to raise their voice at you. He usually intervened only if you directly requested it, because more often than not you got annoyed at him for worming his way into your other problems. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t notice when he’s typing on his laptop at the restaurant you work at and someone starts destructively causing a scene all because you brought them the wrong brand of soda by accident. It’s been a long day, you’re tired, you’re working the evening shift and the restaurant’s about to close. So you don’t bother to try and appease this guy, you know he’ll just complain and give you a hard time no matter what you do. And he apparently took your: “I’m sorry, let me grab you the right one,” as disingenuous and insulting, because you didn’t call him “Sir”. You really don’t feel like dealing with this, and you’re about to just let it go until he has the audacity to knock the soda off the table and onto the floor, staining the floor and even getting soda all over your shoes.

God…just to humiliate you over something small-you find yourself quietly staring at the floor for a moment, trying to register what you should even do…bend over right now to try to salvage your shoes before the soda dried? You had napkins in your pocket. But then the damn customer won…

And you know Melone was watching everything. He’s so invested that he’s stopped typing.

Melone’s no gentleman, and has no shame, but he can’t just let someone get away completely with disrespecting his girlfriend…especially given he had bought those cute shoes for you!

You can only mumble Melone’s name quietly when he approaches the situation, his demeanor energized despite how late it was. You weren’t gonna deny him stepping in but saying his name was a warning not to be too weird.

He clicks his tongue, making a point to not even look at the jerky customer, like he wasn’t there, and focuses all his attention on you.

“You know those shoes weren’t cheap, tesoro mio,” he chides playfully, immediately plucking off some napkins from the customer’s table and kneeling in front of you so he can wipe your shoes clean himself.

You bite your lip. It might seem gentlemanly to onlookers, but you knew he was also using the opportunity to get close to your legs in public. But he manages to behave himself, even putting a few napkins over the spill on the floor once he’s done with your shoes.

When he finally stands back up, he makes a point of leaning very close with an especially devious look on his face.

“What a shame,” he says in a strangely exaggerated tone. “I think I’ll have to buy you a new pair of shoes…”

You just give him a confused look after reminding him you’re on the clock when he leans in for a kiss.

Then he wanders off. But at least he distracted the customer enough to dampen the worst of the disrespectful behavior.

You finish your shift. Melone was waiting for you outside with his motorcycle, as he’s your ride back to your shared apartment.

He looks especially pleased with himself.

“What’d you do this time?” you sigh and yawn, too tired to feel especially concerned with whatever he might’ve done.

“Your next pair of shoes is going to be Especially nice…I’ll even get you a pretty dress to go with them~” he licks his lips.

Under the dim light of the street lamp, you finally notice the wallet that he’s holding up. It isn’t his.

His little kneeling act by the table with the rude customer apparently had many purposes…your boyfriend really was quite a sly opportunist…

“Melone…” you were gonna chide him gently for taking the guy’s Entire wallet but…it was too late to start arguing with him, given he was your ride home. And you didn’t care too much about it in the first place, especially right now.

-Ghiaccio: Everything ticks him off so when you’re working you don’t mind if he doesn’t bother to stop by and say hi even when he’s in the area. He tends to get worked up about something minuscule even during quick visits. And your restaurant is quite popular with tourists, who he has a borderline obsessive type of hatred for. Yeah. You were okay with him NOT visiting you while you were working because inevitably one day he was gonna cause quite a scene-

You feel a very ironic cold shiver down your spine when you catch sight of a familiar red Mazda Miata going way too fast in the parking lot looking for a space to park.

“Dios mio…I don’t need this today…” you mumble to yourself, not realizing a particularly entitled customer was watching you act distracted for a moment by looking at a car from the window.

When you get to his table, you don’t really know what he’s yapping about when he says waitresses these days are SO ditzy and aren’t properly trained. You’re not listening too hard because you’re watching Ghiaccio walk past the window on his way into the restaurant. He gives you an acknowledging glance when he spots you, and it pisses off the customer even more because now he’s complaining about how completely unprofessional it was that you invited your boyfriend into the restaurant while you were working. You have no idea where this guy is even getting all these assumptions, or what was even so terribly wrong with the scenario he’s making up, so you don’t pay it much attention and just brush it off as the customer’s eccentric personality trait.

Until he says that if you were going to be disrespectful by inviting your boyfriend to work, you might as well look busy.

What a freaking idiot, waiting for Ghiaccio to walk in to the restaurant before literally throwing the money for his meal at you, completely expecting you to pick up all the bills.

Ghiaccio doesn’t even need to know the context to react (though it’s probably for the best he didn’t hear what started it because it’d just piss him off even more).

“Hey, hey, hey…” Ghiaccio’s voice from the entrance can be heard from half way inside the restaurant. “If you meant to give the money to her, it’d be MUCH more efficient for both of you if you just HANDED it to her, you freaking moron-“

Oh God, here we go…Ghiaccio wasn’t screaming quite at full volume as he speed walked to where you were standing, his hands twitching slightly, either oblivious or simply ignoring all the customers exchanging nervous glances as they watched him. He has to be literally the WORST AND the EASIEST member of his entire team to piss off…and when he got like this he sometimes didn’t even listen to you.

The customer glares at him, and dares to open his mouth to respond, but Ghiaccio’s rant wasn’t over and it just pisses him off even more to see the guy had the audacity to try and interrupt him.

“Ghia, hey-”

Yeah he was definitely not gonna listen to your attempt to calm him down. You wonder if he even heard you because he grabbed the guy by the back of the head while you were talking.

“IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY DAMN SENSE WHEN I THINK ABOUT IT! I MEAN, WHAT THE HELL IS THE POINT OF THROWING MONEY ALL OVER THE GROUND?! YOU JUST GET OFF WATCHING HER WASTE A BUNCH OF TIME PICKING THAT ALL UP?!”

Was he…more pissed about the illogical nature of the behavior or the fact that you were being disrespected…?…It’s kinda hard to tell…this ornery yapper on even more ornery yapper violence was Quite a scene this early in the morning…

“DON’T YOU HAVE A LIFE, IDIOT? OR DID YOU GO OUT JUST TO KILL TIME BY POINTLESSLY INCONVENIENCING A WAITRESS?! YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE BUT SHE’S GOT AN ACTUAL JOB TO DO AND DOESN’T HAVE TIME TO PLAY 52 CARD PICKUP WITH ENTITLED JERKS LIKE YOU!”

It doesn’t even cross your mind that most people would be mortified to watch their boyfriend completely lose it like this in public, you’re so used to it at this point; you’re thinking about how it’s a bit hypocritical of him given how you’ve witnessed him Also going off on a poor server for nothing.

“GHIACCIO!” you finally make yourself shout, reaching out and grabbing the wrist of the arm he was using to hold the panicking rude customer by the back of the head.

You know Ghiaccio. He was about to slam that man’s head on the table.

“WHAT?!” he snaps, but when he whips his head, you can tell the raging blizzard of his soul wavered just a bit when he looked at you.

“Don’t…you’ll break the table, they’re flimsy…”

His physical strength always astounded you, given he wasn’t particularly large, and he wasn’t even resisting your hand on his wrist but you could still feel the power in his arm. “You already made your point…” you whisper, worried about getting in trouble for the scene he was causing.

“BUT-“

“Thank you, it’s okay…”

He REALLY has to debate it, but reluctantly releases the man with an irritated huff and an audible growl. Such a lucky guy…you were one of the few people who could get Ghiaccio to think before taking something too far.

“Is your shift almost over?” he asks, clearly still incredibly irritated, tapping his foot rapidly against the ground.

“About fifteen minutes to go.” You glance at the trembling rude customer, gazing wide eyed and flinching every time Ghiaccio moved in any way.

He checks his watch and the customer climbs further into the booth out of fear of the simple gesture, but Ghiaccio is forcing himself not to pay him any mind.

“I’ll wait for you in the car then.”

“Alright.”

As long as he left the restaurant…

Now everyone knew he was definitely with you in some capacity…damn.

He sends a pointed glare to a couple of the customers on the way out. A “gentle reminder” to keep manners in mind.

And when you give the rude customer one last look, you see he’s on the ground picking up the money he had tossed at you.

He’s trembling a bit. Probably from fear of Ghiaccio changing his mind and coming back to actually break his face. But he’s probably a bit cold too, just from coming into physical contact with Ghiaccio could leave anyone with a chill if he partly activated his stand while touching someone.

You really needed to have a chat with him about his temper but as the previously inconsiderate customer blubbers out apologies and begs you to protect him from your scary boyfriend while shoving the money (and a generous tip) directly into your hands you hesitantly decide today is not the day.

-Risotto Nero: He doesn’t go out in public often, but minus the whole “leader of an assassination division in the mafia with a truly frightening appearance” he’s a pretty normal guy. Keeps to himself and stoic, but he can hold a conversation. You’re fine with him not visiting you at work often, you get that he’s super busy, but when he does stop by you’re glad to see him (and he doesn’t cause any scenes. Bonus points for Risotto).

It was a slow morning for you, and he had finished an early morning mission earlier than he had expected. He even checked to make sure the diner you worked at wasn’t busy before he decided to stop in and see you.

Your face lights up when you see him, running over to him and giving him a quick hug, and bringing him a small cup of coffee on the house, allowing yourself a brief moment of respite to speak with your boyfriend. It wasn’t busy yet…there were only two other customers, but it was just your luck that one of them woke up on the wrong side of the bed and decided to come over and give you a hard time for taking a moment to spend with Risotto.

“Does your boss pay you to flirt with customers?”

You can’t even believe someone really came over just to say that to you. You weren’t even sitting down to talk to Risotto, and it’s not like you were being loud or obnoxious or anything.

“She’s doing her job,” Risotto points out with that signature stoic nature. The guy seems slightly put off by Risotto’s unique appearance, but was apparently in a bad enough mood to not back down so easily.

“If she was doing her job she’d be bringing me a refill and not wasting her time chatting with a guy she already served,” he points out indignantly. What an insane level of entitlement…Risotto seemed to think the same thing, though he wasn’t a fan of escalating things.

But this guy…he had some audacity talking to you like that.

Risotto puts his hands on the table, and stands up slowly, deliberately, to his full height, tilting his head slightly to better look the smaller man in the eyes.

“She’s just being polite,” Risotto corrects the man. His voice is still calm, but his speaking speed is Slightly slower. Paired with him purposefully emphasizing his full height, the warning that he wasn’t going to stay civil for much longer was clear.

The unwanted visitor inwardly debates for a moment, visibly shaken from Risotto’s intimidation but absolutely too embarrassed to just back off now.

He foolishly decides to keep going.

“She-” he’s cut off by an almost explosive gush of blood coming out of his own nose. You gasp at the suddenness, but instantly realize what’s happening. He slams his hand over his nose, the blood not stopping that easily, almost immediately leaking through his fingers.

“Oh…” Risotto remarks with obviously fake concern, leaning in as if he were examining the “mysterious” nosebleed. “You’d better take care of that before you get blood all over the place…” he states the obvious with complete unconcern.

It was admittedly a bit funny to watch that jerk sprint to the restroom clutching his bloody nose.

There is a minuscule tug to the edges of Risotto’s lips.

“Risotto! Sudden unexplainable nosebleeds aren’t funny at all,” you chide, despite not feeling an ounce of pity. It’s not like Risotto was trying to kill that guy, if he was he would be bleeding out on the ground right now. The goal was just to embarrass him a bit, and he definitely succeeded.

“I think that was just a suitable divine punishment,” Risotto replies with a shrug, as if his stand, Metallica, had nothing to do with it. It’s subtle but…you can tell he’s irritated someone really had that kind of nerve to bother you for no reason. But you won’t let it ruin his whole day, reminding him that you got off work early today and you’ve been really excited to finally have some free time to spend with him.

Author’s closing note: I hope this could bring you some entertainment~it was enjoyable to write and consider how a few of them could use their stands to mess with people but wow I was being sent back to my first job on occasion with some of these customer characters, sheesh-

[eulogium-red]

i'd like to see more of the theme of "family" in overwatch. we see it a lot with ana & fareeha, ram & zen, brig/torb/rein/bastion, genji & hanzo. but those are the obvious ones between playable characters. the ones that are much more clearly written on the wall, even once-in-a-blue-moon players could pick up on. much else is hardly focused on despite how much family (or a lack thereof) has shaped many of the character's lives & identities for better or for worse

i don't like how martina & the unnamed reyes kid are only mentioned in passing, despite gabriel himself visiting often unannounced. clearly they were an important part of his life. clearly, family is an important part of his life — i'm very willing to wager that small passage about the death of his parents in declassified was written very intentionally. his complicated relationship with death, and how it was further affected by his own "death," & how he's now in some warped reversed position with his new family. but we don't get much more than a few voice lines about martina (is she even mentioned by name in-game orrr am i not remembering?)

i want to see how ashe manages the gang throughout the second omnic crisis. or perhaps we could see her mannerisms slightly change with bob. maybe instead of standing side-by-side with him as she is in the reunion cinematic, she puts herself more between him & potential unrealised threats. or maybe she subtly tries to nudge him under awnings whenever she spots ufos, weary they're housing subjugators — little things that are very intentional. maybe her demeanor tilts ever so slightly from confident but guarded, to guarded but confident.

i want to get a better picture of the role sam english played in fareeha's life just from playing the game, especially after ana's presumed death. i want to know more about their relationship other than the christmas dinner they had. i wonder how many players just assume fareeha's father died young, or assume the writers didn't care to write one at all? for a long time, i thought the former. i wonder what sam thinks of some of fareeha's closest friends — has he met cole & angela? what does he think of helix? we hardly even see fareeha's native heritage expressed other than the two skins off the top of my head

what about cassidy & echo? i know this is a more implied one, but cassidy was the first one to nurture her "childlike intelligence." even today, he guides her — he encouraged her to help winston&co at paris when he was still on the fence. one of the cutest things for me is her enthusiastically shouting "hello winston!" mid-battle, presumably not long after cassidy told her to say hi. she probably would've either way, but i also don't want to discredit the role cassidy has had on her development & i really do want to see more of them

or, speak of the devil, how winston views everyone at overwatch as family. how in watchpoint: gibraltar's 1st defense spawn, you can see the little beds he set up for lena and mei, how you can read an email as proof he got the blankets from a small kids blanket business. the way he keeps photos of the gang, years later. how vehemently protective he was of all their locations. i wish we could see it reciprocated a little more, i wish we could see individual sleeping areas for other heroes as the story progresses, or more items on his desk. & that's not even getting into hammond

& i don't think i can have a family post without mentioning dad 76 or how i desperately want to see benicio being the best supportive dad for lúcio more but honestly i'm getting pretty sleepy so either i'll add more later or someone can add more.

depending how you stretch the definition of family here, it can include other dynamics too. baptiste finding a new sense of belonging in the new overwatch, or mei braving the antarctic to not let her team's death go in vain & to help people who can still be helped — from jiayi and her team still on mars, to the people who now need her help on earth. i'd also argue hana's squad in korea. what are niran's siblings up to? are we gonna see more of efi & orisa? moreover, how are all these non-playable side character characters handling the invasion? i guess we got some texts between lena and emily

family is such a powerful motivator, but can also be really complicated, as seen with the amaris and shimadas + kiriko, i wish we got a similar amount of investment some other places too

a major theme of overwatch is moving towards the future, progressing in some way. & that looks different for everyone depending on their emotional readiness to do that, and what they view "progression" as. so it makes sense a lot of characters don't look back on those they lost along the way so much, at least not too openly (zarya comes to mind), but that's what can make their present relationships with others that much more worth preserving & seeing

probably an impossible ask of a game feeling the effects of layoffs that's primarily focused on pvp/bp/shop items but ykn

thank u for coming to my tedtalk

[simp4wom3n]

The Quiet One Pt V

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!reader

Summary:With Ghostface closing in on them, Act 3 finally begins as everyone teams up to hopefully once and for all take them down. ~ Word Count: 9.8k ~ Warnings: descriptions of gory injuries, blood, and anything that comes with Scream, Scream VI spoliers!!, hella swearing

A/N: OMG HEY!!!! IM BACK!!! It has been such a ridiculously long time since I have written, and I'M SO SORRY. Life really got in the way for a while, but I am back. This fic is so damn long it took me ages, but I hope it's everything you guys wanted. I love you all! COME ON MOTHERF*CKER!!

Pt1 ~ Pt2 ~ Pt3 ~ Pt4 ~ Pt5

Stepping onto the brisk streets of New York, a cool breeze brushed against your skin, painting a rosy hue on your nose and cheeks. The gentle breeze caressed your scar, providing needed relief to its subtle throbbing as you walked hand-in-hand with Tara, who was engrossed in conversation with her sister, while the rest of the group led the way to the station. Eyes scanning your surroundings hastily, your brain attempted to adjust to your new vision as you watched people walk past, utterly oblivious to the psycho that was tormenting their city.

You had never been more jealous.

While meeting Tara was undoubtedly the best part of your life, walking nonchalantly down a busy street at night without checking your shoulder regularly sounded pretty nice. Was it worth throwing your love for Tara away for? Absolutely not, yet you would be lying if you said there wasn't a little voice in the back of your mind that liked to remind you how every day your life could've been - especially after everything you've suffered, as if Woodsboro wasn't enough.

As if sensing your discomfort, Tara paused her conversation with her sister to glance at you worriedly, her eyes scanning your rigid posture and distant eyes moving too fast for her to track. She squeezes your hand to grab your attention as your eyes finally meet hers, your lone e/c eye standing out against its pale white counterpart. "You okay?" she whispers softly, her eyebrows creasing slightly. "Yeah," you sighed dejectedly, "just kinda wishing I had a normal life... you know, without all this Ghostface shit".

You watched as Tara's face fell slightly at your words, causing you to panic, "It's not your fault! I love you and everyone here. I just hate worrying about who will be alive in the morning." Her expression was slightly lifted as a small smile formed on her lips, but guilt continued to gnaw at her eyes. You could hear her whisper, "Yeah, I get it", as she briefly looked away to look at others a few metres ahead of you. She lets go of your hand with a comforting squeeze as she quickens with each step. "I'll be right back."

Watching as she walked off, a gentle hand on your shoulder pulled your attention from the small girl now talking to Mindy. "Did I say something?" you ask, knowing it was Sam standing next to you. "No, she just likes to run off sometimes," she jokes lightheartedly, a slight chuckle falling from your lips. "Tell me about it.". Mindy glances back at you as Tara approaches Chad and Danny. "She's a difficult girl to understand, but if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that she loves you. It's a little obsessive, honestly." Your cheeks flush as you look at Sam questionably, "Sam being sentimental? Never thought I'd live to see that." "Oh shut up" she shoves your shoulder playfully as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you.

Curious, you gaze at Tara as she returns to her position beside you, intertwining your hands without hesitation. You enquire softly, "What was that all about?" while she keeps her gaze fixed on the approaching station stairs. "Nothing. I just needed to talk to them about something.". Despite feeling it was about you, as said friends kept looking over their shoulders at you, you stopped yourself from pushing it.

As soon as you stepped foot in the station, you were greeted by an overwhelming influx of people, many of whom were dressed in Halloween costumes. Mindy steps back from the group in front to stand by your side as you take in your surroundings for the first time. Like you, she looks through the crowds, her expression more serious than you're used to on her. You excused her unusual behaviour until you both walked into someone who stared at you wide-eyed, horrified by your scar.

"What the fuck are you looking at?! Fuck off! Jeez... some people."

Now, you were the one who had to look at Mindy with wide eyes. This type of aggression was uncommon for the typically gentle and humorous girl, so the fact that she even displayed it, especially to defend you, it shocked you, to say the least. "Damn, Mindy… thanks," you muttered under your breath as Mindy returned your timid smile, "They deserved it."

Walking further onto the platform, the group waited momentarily whilst the train came to a stop and the doors opened. With tons of people trying to squeeze through the small doors to fit in the tiny space left on the packed train, it became a free-for-all. It happened in a blur; your hand separated from Tara's as Danny dragged her onto the train, leaving you and Mindy amongst the wave of people.

Amidst the chaos of people jostling your shoulders, your attention shifted away from Mindy's presence and focused solely on reaching a concerned Tara. Mindy's frustration became evident through the curse words she hurled at those around you. As you pushed your way towards your girlfriend, an obnoxious person dressed as Ghostface forcefully pushed you from behind, causing you to stumble onto the train and into Tara's embrace, the girl grunting softly at the impact. The echo of Mindy's furious tirade filled the air as you finally turned to witness her forcefully pulling off their mask.

Tucked in Tara's embrace, a soft chuckle escaped your lips at the scene before you. That was until the doors of the train started to close. "Shit… Mindy!" you exclaim, feeling a surge of guilt wash over you as you desperately try to reach the door, only to be held back by Tara. You watch Mindy's sudden realisation of the closing doors, a loud 'fuck' escapes her lips as she tries to navigate through the remaining crowd in her path.

The doors shut just as she's about to reach them.

You pound your fist against the door in frustration, mirroring the same exasperated look on Mindy's face. Grabbing your phone, you motioned for her to do the same through the glass as you texted her. The whine of the train starting to move fills your ears as Tara pulls you closer, her body wrapped around your free arm.

In the midst of all the chaos, it escaped your attention that Ethan had also managed to miss the train, although you couldn't quite fathom how. Your phone dings with a text from Mindy. "She's taking the train right after us with Ethan," you inform the group, slipping your phone into your back pocket and releasing a quiet sigh.

"She'll be okay. She's Mindy." Tara comforts you softly, gently stroking your arm as you gaze down at her, nodding in response. You embraced your girlfriend in a tender and heartfelt hug. You were burdened with guilt. You're not sure where this sudden protective nature had come from, and although your heart felt some relief knowing that she cared, you couldn't help but feel responsible for it.

She was protecting you, and look where that got her.

Letting go of Tara, you gently kissed her forehead and intertwined your hand with hers. Until now, you were completely absorbed in your thoughts, oblivious to the tension brewing within the group. Taking your gaze off your girlfriend, the source of said discomfort became obvious.

Ghostface.

Everywhere.

"Oh, what the fuck" you cursed as Tara's grip on your hand tightened. Everywhere you looked, there were individuals wearing the costume that perpetually plagued your nightmares, and their unwavering gazes seemed to be fixated on you. "Why are there so many of them?" Chad asked, his frustration evident in his voice as he, too, grew tired of encountering the same pale mask wherever he went.

Everyone's faces are ridden with anxiety. "How many stops do we have?" Tara inquired with a heightened sense of urgency, eager to get off the train just like the rest of you. Sam gazes at the map, undoubtedly internally pleading that it's not too many. Looking back at the group, she hesitates slightly, revealing the news couldn't be good. "Ten", she speaks solemnly. Tara's eyes are filled with concern as you exchange worried glances, causing your heart to race at an abnormal speed.

The subway lights start flickering, intensifying the eerie atmosphere inside the train. Your vision, already impaired, struggled to follow every Ghostface amidst the flickering lights. It became nearly impossible for you to keep track of them, adding to the waves of anxiety that were rushing over you.

As the train came to a halt, the lights flickered into a steady glow, and a voice over the intercom announced your arrival at 79th Street. In a matter of seconds, as you glanced down the carriage, your gaze met that of one of the masked individuals. Your face fell. A sense of fear filled the air, your breath catching in your throat as both of you remained motionless, captivated by the piercing gaze of those intense black eyes.

As if they had never been there, your intense gaze was interrupted when they vanished behind someone getting on the train. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach as you scanned the area, desperately searching for any sign of them, but your efforts proved futile. The others remained clueless about what you just saw as the train started to move again, the lights resuming their irritating flickering.

You pulled Tara closer to you as the carriage grew dim, the silhouettes of your friends becoming the only discernible shapes in the darkness. With a tender embrace, she places her hand on your back, tracing soothing circles that bring you a sense of calm. You locked your gaze on the floor as the cabin continued to flicker around you.

"This is 72nd Street", the announcer speaks monotonously, the train coming to a stop as you look up from the floor, noticing your girlfriend's concerned gaze directed towards you. Attempting to avoid her gaze, your sight lands back on the Ghostface from before, again staring daggers at you. You try to maintain an equally stern gaze, which you manage until they start moving towards you at pace.

"Guys", you quickly inform the others about the imminent danger. The atmosphere instantly tense up as all eyes fixate on the approaching figure. Tara and Chad both step forward to protect you. The Ghostface suddenly stops right in front of you, causing your friends to freeze in an effort to avoid giving away any reaction, just in case it's not the real killer.

Attacking a perfectly innocent person on a New York subway was the last thing you needed, especially with the rumours surrounding Sam.

With a sudden and effortless motion, the person in front of you removes their mask, making Chad flinch. Instead of those frightening black eyes, a teenage girl's soft brown eyes fixated on you, brimming with a curious intensity that seemed almost unhinged.

"Holy shit, your makeup is so good! I saw it from across the train, but, oh my god, it looks so much better up close. How did you do it?" she chirps out in excitement. You freeze, immediately recognising she is talking about your scar.

Your perfectly real scar.

You find yourself speechless, unable to form a response as the unexpected question catches you off guard. Without hesitation, the girl extends her hand towards your face, her fingers inching closer to your scarred face. Taken aback, you witness Chad's hand swiftly grasping the girl's wrist with a firm grip. The expression on the girl's face is filled with surprise, whilst Chad displays determination.

"Get away from her before I make you." Your eyebrows raise slightly at his words, your lips quirked into a small smile as you revelled in your friends' newfound sense of protectiveness.

It made you feel human again.

You softly thank Chad, who gives you a curt nod and a smile as your face lights up with a smile that hadn't adorned your lips for many days. Since Ghostface's return, your life has been completely turned upside down. Your friends began to turn against you as the blame game singled you out as its victim, tearing apart the very essence of your being.

However, at this moment, as you bear the marks of your past and the lasting impact it has had on you, a newfound determination surges through your veins as you observe the individuals surrounding you.

These were your people. Your family.

You were determined to go to any lengths to protect them, even if it meant sacrificing yourself for their sake.

With your hands still interlocked, you finally emerge from the sweaty train and lead the way up the stairs, closely followed by Tara and the others. You quicken your pace up the weathered stairs, your gaze searching for a blonde who had agreed to meet you here. A voice you recognise calls to you as you reach the peak of the staircase. "Hey," you hear her say, your eyes meeting Kirby's as you shift your gaze towards the woman.

As she approaches, she effortlessly inserts herself into the group, seamlessly blending in as you all make your way towards the theatre. "I've talked to Bailey. I've got everything set up," she explains before noticing the lack of numbers in the group. "Where are Mindy and Ethan?" she asks, her voice tinged with a mixture of worry and suspicion. Clenching your jaw slightly at the reminder of the people you left behind, Tara jumps in to respond, "They're five minutes behind us."

"Let's get you all inside.", Kirby speaks, nodding in response before she redirects her attention to the theatre, which is now just a few steps in front of you. As the dilapidated structure looms before you, its imposing presence casts a shadow over the group. Everyone's steps come to a halt as Sam directs her attention towards Danny. "Not you."

Turning towards them, you watch as shock comes over Danny's face, "What?" he says, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Don't trust anyone, remember?" Sam speaks softly yet assertively. "We don't know you. Not really.". His face contorted with hurt as he leaned towards Sam. "You know me," he said, trying to convince her to let him protect her.

"You're not Woodsboro. I'm sorry." Whilst you felt bad for Danny, despite knowing that Sam would never willingly let anyone protect her, the revelation that being part of Woodsboro meant you were trusted filled a small part in your heart that you weren't aware was missing.

Releasing Tara's hand, you gently wrap your arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as you watch the interaction. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile graces Tara's lips, a sign that she's starting to see the return of the girl she loves after the emotional and physical turmoil you've both endured over the past few days.

"It's okay. It's okay, I get it." Danny finally speaks up. "Be safe, okay?" he pleads Sam, leaning in and kissing her cheek tenderly while delicately caressing her arms. Sam's face reveals a hint of guilt as she replies, "You too." before swiftly turning around and continuing walking. The rest of you cast sympathetic glances at Danny before joining the girl on the way to the theatre.

"Good call."

As Kirby unlocks the doors with a reverberating clank, a surge of nervousness courses through you as the doors swing open, revealing the dimly lit theatre. With Tara clinging tightly to your side, a sense of unease washes over you as you cautiously enter the room, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. "I cleared the whole place before you got here. This is the only way in or out." Despite your best efforts to pay attention, Kirby's words seemed to go unnoticed as you surveyed the familiar surroundings, a sense of unease growing within you.

"So, this is the only way in or out. He steps in through the first door, both doors lock automatically, trapping him inside. We turn it into a kill box." Kirby continues to explain enthusiastically, clearly entertained by the fact that this is finally her chance to bring one of these psychos to justice. "Weapons?" Sam questions. "One gun and I hold onto it." Sam gives Kirby a disapproving look, but before she can say anything, Kirby interrupts her, "I'm the only one with a badge here. That's the way it's going to be. We're safe here."

As much as you want to believe what she says, this was Ghostface you were dealing with. Despite the lingering uncertainty, you made an honest attempt to maintain trust in the plan's success, not only for your own sake but also for the sake of the others, particularly Tara.

"I'm gonna check in with Mindy. See if they're close." Sam interrupts, breaking the suspenseful silence that had fallen amongst the group. As Sam walks away and Chad follows, Tara squeezes your hand for your attention. "Come with me?" "Of course", you reply softly. She guided you to the old confectionary stand, a room that had unexpectedly become an escape for the two of you, as it felt like the only safe spot in the entire building.

Besides, it was Tara. You would follow her wherever she went.

"When was the last time anybody used this place? It's so old," Tara comments as you walk through the door. Although not well-maintained, the room decor still manages to evoke a strange sense of comfort as you softly chuckle at her words. "Yeah," you respond softly as you both make your way to the counter, gently letting go of Tara's hand and resting your elbows on it.

As you spot an old box of Milk Duds across the counter, your hand instinctively reaches out to grab them, only for your hands to collide with the girls next to you. A faint blush tinges on your cheeks as her hand pulls back, causing a soft chuckle to escape your lips, "I-I'm sorry, you can have them". You apologise, holding the box towards her, a hint of nervousness evident as you gently bite your lower lip. She pushes your hand back towards you with a slight smirk. "Take them."

"No, I mean…" you stuttered, her touch sending a shiver down your spine as you savoured the rare moment alone you'd shared with her for a while. "If you want them, you have them," you eventually finish. "You think I want these?" she chuckles, prompting a shared embarrassed laughter between the two of you. Your eyes lock, smiles forming on your faces, entirely captivated by each other. "Kind of", you joke, raising your eyebrows at her. "They're like a hundred years old. Maybe that's your thing."

Your soft laughter trails off into a comfortable silence as you look down at your hands, your heart racing, but this time from a much more pleasant catalyst. "I really missed you. I don't know why I told you to back off." You smiled gently at her, tears starting to well in your eyes. "I was so stupid. This whole time, all I really needed was you."

The more she spoke, the more flustered you got. Instead of enjoying the sentiment, you couldn't help but let your mind destroy it.

You're different from the person she is talking about.

She fell in love with the girl whose face wasn't mutilated and would probably scare off young kids. Whilst Tara and your friends could look past it, understanding the trauma you had gone through, you would never be able to walk down the Street without being met with horrified gazes from every direction. And even though Tara would undoubtedly try to protect you from it, you were convinced that her efforts would be futile.

"I'm not the same anymore," you said dimly. Tara frowned at you, gently taking hold of your trembling hand. "What do you mean?" "I just... someone mistook me for a Halloween costume for fucks sake... I'm not the same, and I never will be." You speak, deliberately avoiding eye contact with your girlfriend, as if her reaction would confirm the truth behind your words.

She could never see you the same.

Instead, her delicate touch caressed your cheeks, mindful of your scar, as she tenderly lifted your gaze towards her. Your teary eyes met hers as she looked at you with a tender smile. "Y/n... scar or no scar, you are still the same girl I fell in love with. Nothing will ever take you away from me, especially a scar that makes you look pretty badass if you ask me." you chuckle at her words, a few stray tears escaping, which she gently wipes away.

"I love you," she says, her gaze locked with yours, ensuring her words reach you. "I love you too," you speak with a chuckle, leaning closer to her as she wraps her hands around your neck and draws you in. The moment your lips connect, it feels like heaven. The taste of her lips is a sweet revelation, and you plan to savour every moment. The room seems to blur as the outside world dissolves, leaving only the two of you. The warmth between you intensifies, and a current of desire courses through your veins. Sinking deeper into the kiss, you wrap your arms around her waist, squeezing her tightly as your lips begin to move.

As you tried to deepen the kiss, a sudden jolt of pain shot through your scar, causing you to pull back. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to suppress the pain, you eventually look towards your girlfriend apologetically as she looks at you worried. "Sorry," you chuckle lightly, "It's... still a little tender." You offer the girl a gentle smile as her hands glide down to your hips. "Don't say sorry. We'll just take it slow." Her seductive gaze locks with yours, setting your senses ablaze and causing a familiar blush to creep onto your cheeks. Briefly taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you lean in again. Nothing else mattered at this moment.

Or so you thought.

As your lips are seconds away from colliding, Tara's body is slammed into you as a scream erupts from her throat. Your eyes go wide in panic as you scream her name, only to see Ghostface standing behind her with a knife in her back. She is ripped from your grip as she is thrown to the ground. Although your instincts told you to help her, the masked individual who was now staring straight at you told you otherwise.

Without warning, their knife comes swinging towards you. Taking a swift step back, you barely dodge the blade as they go to swing again, their arm colliding with you. With a grunt, you harshly grip their arm before pulling them around you and throwing them into the wall. The shattering of glass from the poster frame intensifies the chilling encounter as another swing of the knife inches dangerously close to your face. Dodging the swing, you swiftly regained your footing and delivered a powerful punch to the psycho's face. As your fist made contact with their chin, they crumpled to the ground. As the cries of Tara echo in your ear, in a fit of anger, you direct your attention towards their fallen form and deliver a forceful kick to their stomach.

Frantically realising that there was little time they would be on the ground, you swiftly pivoted and rushed to your girlfriend's side, urgently helping her to her feet and guiding her towards the door. With a sudden burst, the door swings open, startling you as Sam and Chad's faces, filled with terror, appear on the other side, their expressions clearly reflecting the echoes of Tara's bone-chilling scream. They quickly notice your dire situation and urgently drag you from the room.

"Come on, go, go, go!" Sam screams as you run out of the room, and Chad slams the door behind you. "It's Kirby! She's the killer!" Sam yells at you, "No shit!" you scream back, desperate to get out of this place. Running towards the caged exit, you grip its rusted bars and pull at it desperately. "That's locked. Come on". Your face falls further, "Are we trapped?" you yell in disbelief. "She made the whole theatre the kill box. For us."

"Hey, what about that? There's an exit door." Tara directs everyone's attention to an opening on the roof, positioned just above a set of scaffolding. "Maybe it leads to the roof or something," you suggest, looking at your girlfriend, who nods in agreement. "There's only one way to find out. Let's go." Chad quickly takes the lead, leading the group towards your potential escape route.

"Bailey's on the way, but-" Sam's words are abruptly interrupted as Ghostface unexpectedly pounces on you from the shadows of the stage. Tara frantically tries to evade the swinging knife, ending up on the floor in an attempt to do so. Unfortunately, you are unable to do the same as the blade slices the side of your arm. You firmly grasp the wound on your arm as you clench your jaw in pain. You watch as the Ghostface continues to swing at Chad and Sam before Chad manages to tackle them onto the floor.

"Y/n! Come on." you hear your girlfriend exclaim, her voice filled with urgency, as you catch sight of her and Sam moving towards the stage. You swiftly move as Chad forcefully slams an old movie camera into their masked face, causing their head to snap back and hit the ground with a resounding thud.

Chad follows you with the camera in hand as you join the girls backstage, both of them looking around frantically for an exit. "This way! Come on!" Tara's voice echoes through the air as she swiftly dashes towards a small tunnel backstage. You eagerly trail behind her along the narrow path, acutely aware of the ominous footsteps of Ghostface closing in from behind. Until now, your lack of vision in one eye hadn't posed much of a problem. Yet, as you sprinted through the narrow pathway, you kept crashing into the walls while Chad struggled to guide you in the right direction.

As you cast a quick glance over your shoulder, a chilling realisation washes over you - Ghostface is steadily closing in. "Fuck, they're fast," you exclaimed, as Chad also realised their proximity. "Get fucked", he shouted as he made the quick decision to hurl the bulky camera at them, immediately slowing them down.

With the additional advantage, you all made it back into the confectionary area as Chad threw the popcorn machine behind you. They quickly push it out of the way as you all turn around to face them. With a slight tilt of their head, they launch a series of aggressive swings towards you and Chad.

The knife narrowly misses both of you as you attempt to position yourselves for some kind of counterattack. Swinging down at Chad, he manages to grab their arm as you grab their shoulders, throwing them back onto the counter. Sam and Tara swiftly seize their arms, desperately trying to subdue them, while you deliver a decisive blow to their face, sending them crashing to the ground once more. As they fall to the ground, Tara quickly runs up to them and boots them in the face.

You couldn't help but think how hot it was.

"Go! Go!" Chad exclaims, swiftly grabbing the old bubblegum dispenser from the counter. With a determined gaze, he raises it above his head, preparing to deliver a decisive blow to Ghostface. Tara and Sam guide you away from him, leading you towards the door, expecting him to join you momentarily.

His piercing screams quickly disrupt the plan, causing everyone to turn their heads in disbelief. Your jaws hang open in shock as you see another Ghostface standing beside him, clutching a knife pierced in his side. "No! Chad!" Tara screams, sending a shiver down your spine. With Sam holding her back, you watch in suspense as the two masked figures surround Chad and lift him up to his knees.

They absolutely butchered him.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you witnessed the relentless onslaught. You watched him get stabbed over and over and over again as if it was never going to end. You were frozen to your spot. He somehow mustered up the strength to tell you to run, but no one could move. "Go," he sputters out, his determination to save the rest of you clear. In a swift and chilling motion, the Ghostfaces allow his lifeless form to crumple to the ground. With synchronised precision, they wipe their blades clean, sending a shiver down your spine.

Finally getting over your shock, you immediately grabbed the two sisters and dragged them out of the door. "This way. Up here. Come on." Sam directs your pointless running as she tries to get you both backstage. Before you can make it, one of the Ghostfaces pounces from behind the screen. Instinctively turning around, you are stopped immediately as the second Ghostface traps you, waving their knife mockingly.

You're surrounded. Whipping your head back and forth, you watch as they both close in on you, the tension in the air palpable. Thinking quickly, Sam assesses the situation with a determined glint in her eyes. Without hesitation, she swiftly grabs some bricks from the debris-laden floor, handing one to you and another to Tara. In that instant, a silent understanding passes between you - do anything to survive.

As Sam moves the two of you so that you find yourselves back to back, forming an impromptu defensive triangle, the weight of the brick in your hand provides an unexpected but reassuring comfort. The cold surface of the brick grounds you, grounding your resolve as you prepare to face whatever unfolds.

"Ready?" Sam asks, and you swiftly reply, although Tara's distressed cries hinder her ability to respond, overwhelmed by panic and fear. "I need you to be ready. Ready?" With your free hand, you firmly grasp Tara's, offering a comforting squeeze while she inhales deeply. Her hesitation overwhelms Sam, prompting her to urge Tara to look at her. As Tara meets her gaze, a newfound determination fills her voice as she declares, "I'm ready."

"Come on motherfucker!"

Just as the fight was about to begin, the deafening echoes of gunshots reverberated through the vast theatre, prompting an instinctive duck for cover. The ominous figures of the two Ghostfaces hastily retreat into the shadows, leaving an unsettling silence shattered only by your heavy breathing. In the dimly lit ambience, a figure emerges from the stage, and a collective gasp escapes the group as the familiar face of Kirby comes into focus, blood streaming down from a fresh wound on her temple.

"It's okay!" Kirby's voice rings out, a desperate attempt to reassure, though her pained expression reveals the gravity of the situation. The vivid red streams on her face contrast with her pale complexion, creating a chilling scene that leaves everyone motionless.

"Stay the fuck back!" Sam's voice pierces the tension, laced with a mix of fear and anger, earning a confused glance from Kirby, disoriented yet resolute. "We know it's you, Kirby," Tara adds, her tone unwavering as Kirby hesitantly approaches the group. "One of them knocked me out," Kirby pleads, her expression changing to one of desperation. Her eyes are genuine, making you want to trust her more, but your trust issues weren't easy to overcome.

"Kirby, stop!" A deep voice slices through the air, redirecting attention to Bailey, who strides into the theatre with a drawn gun, his gaze fixed on Kirby. "Get away from the girls!". The urgency in Bailey's command prompts an instinctive protective response as you push Tara behind you, eyes fixed on the unfolding standoff.

"What are you doing?" Kirby pleads desperately, the air thick with accusation and uncertainty. "Did you kill Quinn!? Did you kill my daughter!?" Bailey's vengeful glare intensifies, scaring the shit out of you.

He clearly wasn't afraid to kill for his kids.

"Jesus Christ!" Kirby exclaims, her eyes darting between you and the detective in disbelief. With her focus back on you, she pleads again, "Whatever he's been saying to you, don't listen to him." The desperation in her gaze transforms into one of resolve as she turns back to the man threatening her. "He's probably the killer," she speaks assertively.

Your gaze remains fixed on Bailey, his expression unwavering even as the damning accusation hangs in the air. Suddenly, the figure of Ghostface appears behind Bailey, and Kirby's frantic scream fills the space, warning him of the imminent threat, "Behind you!" she screams. Disregarding her desperate plea, Bailey swiftly pivots and unleashes three deafening gunshots that pierce through the air, each shot finding its mark, striking Kirby in the chest, and causing her to crumple to the ground.

The aftermath is a haunting symphony of laboured breaths and the lingering echoes of her cries. As your focus shifts back to the killers, you watch in horror as two Ghostfaces stand alongside Bailey, their presence casting a sinister pall over the unfolding chaos. The dim lighting accentuates their ominous figures, while Bailey, wearing a sadistic smirk, reveals himself as an orchestrator of this grim spectacle.

"Great job. Both of you."

"You?"

A palpable tension filled the air in the dimly lit theatre, engulfing you as the truth unravelled right before your eyes. "Yeah, of course me." Bailey teases with a smirk growing on his lips, "Frankly, I expected more from you two after what you did to us."

"What do you mean 'us'?" Tara questioned hesitantly. Bailey's smirk grew into an insufferable smile as he looked to his left, where one of his accomplices was moving to remove the mask. Your heart pounds inside your chest as the white face and black fabric are torn away, revealing your friend's face.

Ethan.

The seemingly unassuming roommate revealed himself with a sinister grin. "Ta-da!" Bailey laughs, finding the shock on all of your faces amusing. The sick look on Ethan's face made you want to puke, the revelation that someone you considered a friend had been out to kill you all along.

The feeling made Woodsboro feel like nothing. The two killers were Sam's boyfriend, whom you had hardly met and someone who you hated from the beginning.

It was nothing compared to seeing the real side of your friend.

With a smirk plastered on his lips, he begins to taunt you about how unsafe you were the whole time, "Mindy was right; it was easy to juke the roommate lottery. All I had to do to meet you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad. Fuck it felt good to kill him.". You felt a surge of anger coursing through you as he spoke, causing your jaw to clench and your grip to tighten around the brick in your hand.

The idea of Ethan pretending to be his friend for months, only to have been plotting his demise the whole time without any hint of remorse, ignited an unbearable anger inside you.

"This one was your grandmother's Sam. Nancy Loomis?" Ethan smiles at Sam, pointing to his mask with his bloodied knife. "Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? And speaking of family, my name isn't Ethan Landry, is it, Dad?"

"Dad?" Tara speaks for the rest of you, your faces growing more shocked. As the shock washes over you, your focus shifts to the second masked figure who still stands menacingly staring directly at you.

"But, if you're Ethan, that just leaves… Mindy?" Sam breathes out in disbelief. Your expression twisted in confusion as you looked back at the memories of how much Mindy had loved Anika. It seemed impossible, yet who else could it be?

Shock filled the room as Quinn removed her mask, leaving you all in stunned silence. "Hey, Roomies. Didn't see that one coming, did you?"

"But you died?" Tara spoke, a hint of anger behind her voice. "Yeah, kinda didn't, though." Quinn quipped mockingly, "It was a good way to get off the suspect list, stab Gale Weathers, stab Mindy on the train, that sort of thing."

Bailey's proud smile made you feel sick as his proud eyes bore into yours, "I made sure I was first on the scene so I could switch her body out with a fresh one. You'd be surprised with what a grieving father can get away with."

Your anger was starting to burst at your seams, being played for fools and having someone come back from the dead to kill your friends, pulling very tight on your last nerve.

"I got Stu Macher's mask. He was my favourite.". You rolled your eyes at her giddy proclamation. Of course, he was.

Bailey, clearly the leader of this psychotic trio, took slow and calculated steps towards Sam. "Number three and number two. Which just leaves…" Pulling out the most weathered mask from his jacket, he holds it out towards Sam, his eyes menacing. "I'm gonna need you to put it on."

Sam stands tall and looks back at the man with a matching expression, slapping the mask out of his hand as you watch his jaw clench in anger. Ethan is quick to react and slashes his knife towards the girl, slicing through her upper arm with a hiss.

You are quick to catch Sam as she falls back into you. She quickly recovers as she grasps her arm, now dripping with a familiar crimson liquid. Bailey's two minions begin to move around you, circling you as your anger finally comes spewing out of you; you step in front of Sam with rage filling your eyes. "You did all this as a family?" you yell at them incredulously. "Hell yeah, bitch! Sam should know why better than anyone!"

You immediately knew they were talking about Billy, yet the true origin of their motive still escaped you. What family had Sam ever hurt for them to hate her so much to go on a murderous rampage?

"They still haven't figured it out. Maybe we overestimated them." Ethan mocked as the confusion was clearly evident on your faces. Sam was the most confused of all, knowing that she had never done anything wrong. "I don't know what you believe, but I didn't commit the murders in Woodsboro…"

Bailey's laugh fills the theatre, slightly offended that Sam would think that they would believe some stupid internet rumour. Instead, he reveals that it was, in fact, Quinn who had started the malicious rumours, making life in New York for Sam absolute hell.

Each time you think the betrayal couldn't run any deeper, they manage to beat themselves yet again.

"You're a killer, just like your father was.". "I'm not…". "Yes, you are, you motherfucker! You killed our brother!". The gears could finally tick inside your heads as you looked between each other in an attempt to connect the dots. As far as you were aware, the only person Sam had ever 'killed' was… Richie.

Oh shit.

"You're Richie's family?" The realisation also struck Sam as her face sank. "Ding-ding-ding, now she's finally getting it." You shook your head in disbelief. A family seeking revenge for their dead son, okay, sure. Seeking revenge for a murderous psycho by killing his victims who had killed him out of self-defence? Too far.

Yet clearly, nothing was too far for this family, as Ethan revealed the sickening detail that they had killed their own mother because she had refused to avenge Richie. You knew all Ghostfaces were, on some level, psychotic, but this was getting insane.

"Great job with the parenting…" Tara quipped at Bailey, her words bringing the tiniest of smiles to your lips, her sarcasm never failing to entertain you, even if it's whilst you are surrounded by killers.

"You shut your whore mouth!" Quinn screamed at the girl, your jaw clenching at the insult as you looked at her, infuriated. The temptation to throw the brick in your hand at her face almost overcame you until you felt a gentle hand on your wrist.

"I loved my son. So I helped him build this collection." You shifted your gaze towards the older man as he looked amongst the exhibitions with a reminiscent smile. "All of this is Richies?"

The more you seemingly find out about Richie, the more Sam's expression seems to fall. The guilt she had felt after Woodsboro was reborn as her ignorance about her then-boyfriend increased tenfold.

Knowing that this was all Richie's made the space somehow more bone-chilling than before. As your eyes scanned the numerous exhibits, filled with items that belonged in an evidence box somewhere, a part of you pangs with guilt for the other siblings who were clearly the least favourite.

"This is where you have to die." Your attention is brought back to him as he redraws his gun and points it directly at Sam. Instinctively grabbing for Tara's hand, you spare Sam a quick glance, noticing her expression shift as she tilted her head at the man.

Oh, he was fucked.

"He was pathetic, you know?". You watched the deadpan expression on Bailey's face break. "That's not true…" he shook his head. "He was a man-baby who made his girlfriend do almost all the killing." You had to hold back your smile as you watched his facade breakdown. "He was a strong, virile young man!" "He was a weak little bitch who cried before I cut his fucking throat."

As the words leave Sam's mouth, Quinn lunges towards the three of you with a bloodcurdling scream. She is quickly and effortlessly stopped as Tara clocks her in the face with her brick. With teeth and blood flying out of her mouth, she falls to the floor.

A sign that their moment is finally over, your senses are heightened as Act 3 appears to finally kick off. Before you can make any moves, gunshots ring out from behind you as you turn to see Kirby apparently coming back from the dead.

Her resurgence doesn't last long as Ethan quickly rushes towards her with his knife ready in his hand. You're quick to follow the boy as he reaches Kirby and stabs her in the stomach. Finally reaching them as Kirby falls to the ground in pain, you run straight into Ethan, throwing him into the ground. He quickly gets back up and runs away with a maniacal laugh as you shift your focus back to Kirby.

Noticing the knife still sticking out of her stomach, you look at her with a grimace as you realise it's the only way you're gonna get a weapon anytime soon. "Sorry, but I need this." She gives you a small nod as she squeezes her eyes shut.

Gripping onto the handle, you pull the knife out swiftly in an attempt to minimise her pain. She howls in pain, and her hand grips on your arm, her nails digging into your skin as the wave of pain washes over her. Finally relaxing, she opens her eyes back up and looks at you with a tiny smile.

"Fuck 'em up."

As you stand up, you see Ethan reappear from behind a wall, his eyes set on you. Turning towards him, he begins to charge towards you with a sick grin still plastered on his face. "What are you gonna do, scar-face…" he calls out mockingly as he closes in.

That made you snap.

With a new vigour burning inside of you, you lunge towards him as you pull the knife above your head. With a loud grunt, you drive the knife down into his chest. His smile finally washes over his face as he looks at you surprised. Ignoring it, you continue to pump your knife in and out of his chest as if he were a piece of meat, his blood splattering all over you, but you couldn't care less.

Out of breath, you push his limp body off of you as he keels down with blood sputtering out of his mouth. Standing still, you look at his blood-covered body with laboured breathing. Noticing he is still alive, you move to stab him again until you hear your girlfriend's voice from behind you.

"Y/n!" she calls, your head instantly turning in her direction as you notice her beginning to climb the scaffolding behind her sister. Taking your chance, you quickly run towards them, weaving in and out of the display cases before you reach the base of the scaffolding.

Looking for a place to hold your knife, you settle on wiping it off on your shirt, adding to the mural of crimson colours, before placing the knife between your teeth.

As you begin climbing, the gash in your arm aches as new blood begins to flow from the wound. Biting painfully onto the knife, you continue your ascent as you see Tara at the top, reaching her hand down to you. Hearing noise behind you, you turn your head as you watch Bailey and Ethan begin to circle you like sharks, smelling your blood.

With a final grunt, you reach the top and grab Tara's hand as she helps pull you towards the balcony. Watching the two sisters scale across it in front of you, you take the time to try and settle your breathing, which is easier said than done when you're clutching a knife between your teeth.

Moving to follow them, you take the knife out of your mouth and carefully hand it to Tara. Climbing carefully along the railing, you are seconds from making it to safety with the others before another shot rings through the air.

A burning sensation instantly erupts in your leg as you lose your balance and fall backwards. Screaming your name, Sam and Tara barely manage to catch you as your hands barely grip the slippery railing.

Peering over your shoulder, you watch as Bailey moves towards a set of stairs and Ethan moves to stand directly underneath you. "Shit. Not good," you whisper to yourself as your gaze returns to the sisters' terrified looks.

With your injured arm weakening by the second, a noise from the balcony catches your attention as Quinn appears behind Sam, brandishing a bloodied knife in her hand. As Quinn moves towards her, she is forced to let go of your arm, and she turns to face her.

With Ethan taunting you from below and Quinn and Bailey closing in on the girls, you overcome your panic and realise it's your life or theirs.

"Tara, let me go". Your words cause the girl to look at you in shock. “No, I-” “Tara! Let me go.”. Your grip continues to slip as she looks at you as if you have lost your mind.

"Tara… Please." you give her a small smile as she looks at you with tears in her eyes. You watch as her lips begin to quiver, and you feel her grip loosen. Giving her a nod, she finally lets go of your wrists, causing you to plummet down from the balcony.

Turning your attention to the killer below you, you land with a loud bang, and your injured leg collapses beneath you. In an instant, Ethan is plunging his knife into your stomach, a meek whine escaping your lips as you bend over his arm. Twisting his knife inside of you, your loud cru echoes through the theatre as tears threaten your eyes.

Finally, bringing your head up to look at the boy, his smile sent a shiver down your spine as your breathing became more and more laboured. Just as you thought your time was coming to an end, another figure comes falling down from above you.

It was Tara.

Before you can say anything, she lands on her feet with a knife in her hand. Catching Ethan off-guard, she grips his hair and rips his head back. Looking at her with his mouth open, she lifts up her knife and plunges it into the back of his throat. You can hear him gargling on his own blood as she twists the knife, blood splattering on her face.

"Now die a fucking virgin."

Pushing him so that he falls to the ground with a thud, Tara quickly averts her attention back to you, who, to her surprise, was wearing a smirk on her lips. "That was really hot." you chuckled in pain as she kneeled down next to you, noticing the knife was still in your abdomen.

"Shut up," she said before moving to lie you down. Knowing she was about to pull it out, you exhaled shakily before nodding at her, and just like you did Kirby, she pulled the knife out quickly, earning a pained groan from you, before immediately applying pressure to your wound.

Gently removing her hand from your stomach, you move to sit up and attempt to ignore how her hand is now stained with your blood. Making into an upright position, you look at Tara, who is scanning you for any other wounds, whilst you watch her face with a tender gaze.

The bang of a gunshot, followed by the thud of a body that vibrated the creaky floors above your head, brought you both back to the situation you were in. "Help me up," you say quickly, urgently trying to get up and help Sam, presuming it wasn't her body that you heard fall.

As Tara wrapped her arm around your waist gently, she pulled you to your feet; the faint sound of Sam's voice talking to someone calms your nerves. The throbbing from your bullet and stab wound was a rude awakening as to the shape you were in, not to mention the blood that covered almost every inch of your body.

Before the two of you could move towards the stairs, the sound of screaming rang through the theatre as you both looked up. Your jaw dropped. Bailey and Sam came flying over the railing before plummeting into the displays beneath them. As the glass shattered beneath them, you were quick to notice their lack of movement.

Pulling Tara off of you, you pushed her towards her sister. Running to her side, you hobbled as fast as you could towards them. Thankfully, Tara had managed to shake her awake by the time you got there. As she helped Sam to her feet, you sighed in relief as you looked over at a still motionless Bailey.

As the sisters check over each other, your sights remain on the unconscious killer in front of you. "What are we gonna do about him?" you ask, nodding your head in his direction.

You watch as the gears turn in Sam's head, weighing the options between ending it now and letting him die somewhat peacefully or giving him a taste of his own medicine.

She chose the latter.

Hidden behind the curtains on the side of the stage, you watched Bailey through a small slit, waiting for him to move in order to signal Sam that your plan was in action.

It was simple, really. Make him go crazy, and then you kill him.

After a few minutes, Bailey finally began to stir as he moved to sit up. You quickly poked your head around the corner into the hidden hallway, where Sam was standing in her father's costume; you gave her a nod before she pulled a phone out of her pocket and pulled it to her ear.

The sound of Bailey's phone ringing echoed through the now disturbingly quiet theatre. Repositioning yourself so that you can see him, you watch as he rapidly looks around him before standing and bringing his phone to his ear.

You can't hear what Sam is saying to him, but you watch him make his way to the stage as planned. "Oh yeah, what's that?" his voice grows louder as he finally appears on the stage.

Now, the fun part.

As planned, from your place on the ground, you reached your uninjured leg out and kicked a floorboard. Before you could even retract your leg, Bailey snapped towards the noise and fired two precise shots into the heads of the mannequins that lined the stage.

"You put on your true face, huh? Your birthright. Poetic that you're going to die in it…" Exhaling quietly as he spoke, you moved to a spot against a wall where you could relax your weakening body for a minute as Tara played her part.

A noise sounded from the other side of the stage. Closing your eyes as you leaned your head back onto the wall, you listened as Bailey once again flinched and fired his gun, this time the sound of shattering glass filling the stage.

"You know the truth now. Murder's in your blood."

It was your turn again. As quietly as you could in your state, you reached your arm over to the brick that Sam had given you. Picking it up, with the strength left in your arms, you threw it into the back corner of the stage, away from you.

The sound of Bailey's gun firing once again filled the air as he screamed frustratedly, "Stop fucking around and show yourself!". Knowing that it was Sam's turn, you quietly crawled towards the curtain, pulling it aside slightly so that you could peer through.

"I'm a fucking police officer! What are you gonna do, huh? Who do you think they're gonna believe?" he screams once again. A faint smile lands on your lips as you watch Sam appears behind him, wearing the mask and all. Before he even notices her presence, she quickly spins him around before, as you would put it, stabbing the shit out of him.

As crazy as it sounded to say, the sound of his screams was like music to your ears. His family had singlehandedly taken everything from you, so watching him suffer was like heaven to you.

Spotting Tara appear from behind her hiding spot and walking towards Sam, you decided to do the same. With a groan and the help of a wall, you pulled yourself to your feet before weakly hobbling out from your place behind the curtains.

As Sam finally stops stabbing him, and he pleads for his life, you watch with a mixture of admiration and concern, confused as to why she is giving him any chance to live.

She didn't entertain it for long.

"But you did fuck with my family, so…". You watch with wide eyes as Sam gruesomely stabs him straight in his eye, the blade clearly reaching his brain as he falls to the ground, twitching.

"Aw, now we're matching." you joke, earning a laugh from the girls as you look at the mutilated body of the once detective who now also had only one functional eye - had he been alive, that is.

"Let's get out of here," Tara says softly as she grasps your hand with hers. Her touch never fails to make you giddy, but something was off this time. As she tried to pull you towards the stairs off the stage, your head began to spin uncontrollably as a wave of nausea hit you like a truck.

Your legs collapse underneath you as Tara catches you, her face ridden with worry. "Y/n?!? Hey, you're okay, just breathe.". Your vision was fading in and out of a blur as the feeling of your limbs began to escape you. Sam kneels down on the other side of you, matching Tara's expression, as you try to nod to Tara's words.

"Yeah… I just… need a little break." Your eyes begin to flutter shut as you try your best to keep them open. "Keep your eyes open for me, okay," Tara speaks as calmly as she can as she notices the blood beginning to spill from your wounds again.

“Yeah… of course…”

Opening your eyes slowly, you groan softly as the bright light hanging above you stings your eyes. Carefully rubbing your eyes, still careful of your scar, you move to sit up slightly, noticing you are in an empty hospital room. Confusion washes over you, as last you remember, you were on a bloodied stage, and yet here you were.

Doing your best with your aching limbs, you move a pillow behind your back in order to give you a better view of your new environment, admittedly much nicer than your previous one.

Scanning the room, you notice the small TV in the corner of the room is playing The Babadook. You know you didn't put it on, so someone must be here, and it's not particularly hard to figure out who it must be.

With your attention focused on the screen, you fail to notice when Tara walks in the door with a bag of chips in her hand. As she notices your moving figure, a loud gasp escapes her lips. She drops everything in her hands to cover her mouth, her eyes immediately watering.

The sound makes you immediately turn to her, a smile growing on your lips as your eyes meet hers. As the fact that you are awake and alive sinks in, she runs over to the side of your bed and brings her hands up to your face.

Gently cupping your cheeks, her teary eyes look into yours as your hands gently grip her wrists. "Hi," you chuckle softly, the wave of relief finally hitting you. "Hi," she chuckles back even softer, her eyes scanning every detail of your face.

"Is everyone okay?" you ask with furrowed brows as she nods enthusiastically in response. "Yeah, yeah, we're all fine.". The sigh that escapes your lips rids your mending body stress, all of it melting away as soon as you know you have all made it.

Your eyes return to Tara's as she whispers softly, "I can't believe you're alive.". You smile sincerely at her words. "I'm not going anywhere." At your words, she lets go of your face and climbs onto your bed. Your eyes were filled with curiosity. You watch as she wraps her arms around your neck and buries her head in your shoulder.

Instantly reciprocating, you wrap your arms around her waist and hug her with all the strength you can muster. You can feel her tears falling onto your bare shoulder, entangling one of your hands in her hair as you gently play with her hair.

"We made it, Tara. We made it."

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[my-wild-imagination1996]

Life is Crazy part I

A/N: This is not proofread and I am not perfect. There will be spelling and grammatical errors. I have not written smut in over 6 years, I’m sorry if it’s terrible. 

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION BASED ON THE AMAZING HUGH JACKMAN AND MY CRAZY IMAGINATION

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, alcohol, oral sex (f & m receiving), song referenced in the story is Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter, swearing, cum in mouth, mentions of anxiety

PART ONE: YOUR BIG BREAK

Being an independent artist had its perks. Most people still didn’t know who you were so you could usually keep a low profile. You were well known enough to make millions but not known enough for paparazzi to give a fuck about. You were thankful given your anxiety, but you always wished you could reach more people with your music, and occasionally you’d wish that you could be more of a star than you were but you figured if it was meant to happen, then it would. You were sitting in your mini studio that you had set up in the spare room of your Los Angeles suburb home. You were waiting for inspiration to hit you while you played random notes on the keyboard. Your watch started to vibrate to notify you of a call coming through from your manager. You stopped messing with the keyboard to grab your phone and answer the call.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hey y/n, you’re never gonna fucking believe this but I just had a casting agent reach out to me saying that they want you to audition for a movie.” Your agent stated not continuing to give you more detail.

“What movie is it even for?” You asked, thinking it was weird since you have tons of tattoos and usually movies don’t want that.

“Well, you see, that’s the fucking weird part. Um, it’s for a marvel movie. They only want you to audition so it’s not like a guaranteed thing that you’d get the role.” They told you. 

“Any more information than that?” You asked, trying to understand why you’d be asked to audition for something like this.

“Kevin Fiege wasn’t so open to speaking on the role just that it was for a female anti-hero type deal. Said that their casting director thinks you fit the look of the character perfectly.” 

“Okay. Text me the details and let them know I’m game.” I said thinking that there was no harm in auditioning.

A week had passed since the audition and neither you or your management had heard anything regarding being cast so you honestly didn’t think you got the part which was no surprise to you because of your tattoos. You were having a severe case of writer's block when it came to your music. You were playing Last of Us when your watch started vibrating with an unknown saved number. You hesitantly answered.

“Hello?” 

“Hi, is this y/n?” The man on the line asked.

“This is her?” You responded.

“Great! This is Nathan, I am the assistant to Sarah Finn. She was the casting director of the marvel film that you just auditioned for?” He explained making your eyes go wide with shock.

“Oh great! How can I help you?” You asked, mentally kicking yourself for your word choice.

“Well, we actually wanted to see if you’d be willing to come in again for another audition. We’d actually like to give you more detail about the character and see if you match what we’re exactly looking for regarding this character. If we like it, we’ll be having you do a chemistry test with the character's love interest. How does that sound?” He asked with a friendly tone.

“Absolutely. I’d love to come in again. I just need to know when and where.” You responded excitedly. Nathan proceeded to tell you the audition was in two days here in Los Angeles. They needed you there by 10 AM.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm blasting at seven in the morning letting you know to get ready for the audition. You opt to wear a t-shirt and jean shorts with sandals to the second audition. You straightened your hair and applied light make-up since it’s your normal go to look. You weren’t even sure who the love interest was. You loved the MCU and were honored they thought of you, but you were worried about getting your hopes up and what this meant for your music career. You entered the building and were immediately greeted by the receptionist who told you to take a seat and they’d take you back when they were ready. 

“Hi! I’m Nathan. We spoke on a bit about the role on the phone and what todays gonna accomplish.” The man introduced himself as soon as you sat down, making you stand up again to greet and shake his hand.

“Alright so follow me, we’re gonna be going into this room down the hall. No pressure but we do have Kevin there to see if he likes you or not for the role. Now the role is the character Amethyst Santiago AKA Amethyst. Her powers are much like Agatha or even Scarlet Witch. She’s the most powerful one in the Marvel Universe. She has an intense relationship with the like of one Mr. Wolverine.” Nathan said, making you nervous cause if Hugh Jackman was here you were going to lose your shit since you loved the wolverine movies but also he’s hot as fuck so how could you not be excited.

“Now, if you’ll remember, on the phone, I did mention that if we like what we see, we will be doing a chemistry test between you and Hugh.” You instantly fangirled internally but you felt your hands become slightly clammy because of your nerves. 

“Yes, I remember. Let’s do this.” You said as you entered the room where there was a table filled with people, some you recognized from the last audition and some you didn’t. They handed you a script and advised you how to read the role. You did exactly as they asked and stopped when they said ‘end scene’. Then Kevin spoke. 

“I’m gonna be honest with you, y/n. I like your look for the character and I love how you’re portraying the character. I think it’s time we brought Hugh our to see if you guys can make this vision become reality, but Hugh’s a pro so I gotta say that I think you’ve got this.” He stated.

That’s when you heard the door open and then you saw him walk in and greet everyone kindly, before finally greeting you extending his hand.

“I’m Hugh, your scene partner.” He said flashing you a smile that made you get butterflies instantly. 

“Hi Hugh. My y/n is name.” You responded confidently until you realized what you said. “I mean my name is y/n.” Making Hugh laugh. The executives gave you both a minute to review before getting into the scene. It was quite dramatic and ended with him inches away from your lips before they called the scene.

“Great. Thank you, Hugh. Y/n, we’ve got some things to discuss but you’ll have a response from us either way by end of day. 

“Thank you so much for the opportunity.” You said before heading out of the room and to the bathroom.

As you were walking out of the building towards your car, you were staring down at your phone while walking when you felt someone tap your shoulder. You looked over your shoulder and saw no one other than Hugh.

“Sorry to bother you, but you’re going to get the role so I thought that maybe I should give you my number so that we could get to know each other for the roles.” He said.

“I don’t see why not.” You said opening up the dial pad on your phone to call him so you’d both have each other’s number. You figured he was only doing it for the role considering you were barely in your late twenties and he was in his mid fifties. You made the assumption he probably didn’t see you like that even if you saw him that way.

“I’ll see you around y/n.” He said before walking back into the building.

A few weeks had passed since your encounter with Hugh. You had actually come to meet lots of the stars of your youth. You ended up meeting Ryan Reynolds who you learned was going to be starring as Deadpool in the film. You ended up in a text chain with Ryan and Hugh which you were fine with but they usually just told stupid jokes. Filming was supposed to start in about a month. As a sort of celebration of sorts, Ryan invited you to his house for a barbeque/pool party that he was hosting with Hugh and other various castmates. You brought a beach bag that had your swimsuit but you were currently wearing a floral sundress with sandals. You pulled up to his house in awe of the mansion. As soon as you walked up the driveway, you heard the door open to be immediately greeted by a smiling Blake.

“Welcome to our home. If you end up drinking or anything, we have spare rooms you can sleep in.” She said in a friendly tone. 

“Um, thanks. I have a quick question. I have a THC cart and I would like to smoke it outside if that’s okay.” You asked.

“That’s totally fine. No smoking in the house but the backyard is totally fine. Hugh smokes one too so it’s all good.” She said shutting and locking the door behind you. 

You followed Blake to the back where the music and people were. You observed your surroundings. Nervous because you didn’t really know anyone but Hugh and Ryan. 

“Y/n!” Ryan shouted. “Come get a drink and some food!” 

You smiled shyly and found your way over to him, wondering where Hugh was. Maybe your crush on Hugh was slightly inappropriate given the age difference but you were well over eighteen. 

“Where’s Hugh?” You asked while you grabbed a paper plate and built your plate.

“I think he went to get more liquor from the basement.” Ryan responded while you went to sit at one of the tables they had in their backyard. 

You kept scanning the entrance to the backyard, waiting for Hugh to appear. Honestly, you’d socialized more with Hugh in person during this whole process than anyone else. You felt comfortable around Hugh. You finally saw him walking from the house carrying bottles of liquor. You weren’t much of a drinker and it worried you how much alcohol was around cause you were a lightweight.

Hugh noticed you sitting at the chair eating your food at a table alone so he decided to join you while everyone was doing their own things.

  “Hey there. Hopefully I'm not interrupting your peace.” He said, food and his drink in his hand.

“Hey. Thank you for coming over here. I feel kind of out of place honestly. Ryan is great but I just, I don't know, feel overwhelmed, I guess. I don’t have many close friends and I haven't been to a party this large since I was like twenty so it's definitely nerve wracking.” You over-explained.

“Listen to me. I've been in this industry for ages. I can show you the ropes. Help you navigate this a bit.” He said, trying to reassure you. 

You took a sip of the smirnoff ice that you grabbed. Surveying your surroundings, listening to Hugh ramble about whatever crossed his mind. You took the time to really look at him. The way light reaches his eyes while he smiles. The kindness evident in his eyes. You couldn’t help but be in awe of his beauty, but you didn’t want to come off creepy so you kept your staring to a minimum.

After a few drinks and a few hours, the sun was starting to set and they turned on their backyard lights and then Ryan said it’s time to really party. You looked at Hugh to figure out what he meant, but Hugh just gave you a smile. You shrugged it off, finishing off your drink feeling a bit tipsy, making you more sociable.

“Y/n!” You hear Ryan drunkenly yell.

“I’m over here.” You said standing up causing at least 20 or 30 people who may or may not be drunk looking at you. It made you nervous cause these were mostly famous faces and you were use to being in front of fans. 

“Heard you’re quite the singer.” Ryan slurred.

“Oh no, I am not.” You responded not wanting to really sing in front of everyone.

“I’m a fan of your music so you’ve got to sing something for us.” Blake said really throwing you under the bus. 

Contrary to popular belief being a singer of sorts, you had stage fright and most nights on stage you were either drunk or stoned. You walk over to where Ryan and Blake were stationed because that’s where the liquor was. You poured two shots of tequila. Downing them both. 

“What am I supposed to sing?” You said feeling the liquid courage kicking in.

“Ooooh, you should do something new.” Blake said with a drunken slur. 

You pulled out your phone cause you usually kept samples of beats you were using for projects on there. You hooked your phone up to the bluetooth speaker. You played one you had titled ‘Bed Chem’. You had written only a few days ago when you were fantasizing about Hugh. It wasn’t finished but you’d figure singing what you had wouldn’t hurt. The familiar butterflies of performing in your stomach. You took a deep breath and started singing.

“And what are the odds? You send me a text

And now the next thing I know, I'm like

Manifest that you're oversized

I digress, got me scrollin' like

Out of breath, got me going like, ooh

Who's the cute guy with the white jacket and the accent? Like (Ooh)

Maybe it's all in my head

But I bet we'd have really good bed chem

How you pick me up, pull 'em down, turn me 'round, oh, it just makes sense

How you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things, that's bed chem

How you're looking at me, yeah, I know what that means, and I'm obsessed

Are you free next week? I'd bet we'd have really good

Come right on me, I mean camaraderie

Said you're not in my time zone, but you wanna be

Where art thou? Why not uponeth me?

See it in my mind, let's fulfill the prophecy (Ooh)”

“And that’s all I got so far for this one.” You said, officially a little drunk. Everyone erupts out into applause, making you flash a smile.

“Who did you write it about?” Blake asked you, making your eyes go wide.

“Um, no one. Just a guy I met a few weeks ago.” You responded.

You glanced at Hugh, who was watching you intensely. You walked over to him and took a seat beside him. 

“So what did you think?” You asked nervously while fidgeting with your hands on the table.

“I think whoever you wrote that about is about to be a very lucky man.” He said while moving his hands to caress yours, staring right at you. Letting you know that, somehow, he knew it was about him. You felt your whole body light up the second his skin touched yours. 

You felt heat flush your cheeks and you felt yourself starting to respond to his touch and you had no idea how this man is affecting you so greatly. You moved closer to him placing your hand on his thigh while whispering that you think that you both should head out.

“I just have to say bye to some people and then we can go.” He whispered back.

As he walked away from the table, you became anxious. A million things running through your head but you put your brain together enough to go say goodnight to Ryan and Blake, thanking them for their hospitality. After saying your goodbyes, you made your way to your car when you felt a hand sneak around your waist.

“We most definitely are not driving anywhere.” Hugh said sternly. “You are in no condition to drive and neither am I. I live in this neighborhood. We’re a five minute walk.” He said pulling you in the direction of his home. 

The walk was mostly silent. As you pulled up to his large home, he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door letting you in first.

As you both entered the living room, the dim lighting and the soft glow of the lamp created an intimate atmosphere. You kicked off your sandals, your eyes locking with Hugh's, both knowing exactly where this night was headed. You had been getting together weekly for the last couple months and your chemistry was undeniable. 

Hugh pushed you onto the couch, his strong hands grasping your hips. You landed softly on the cushions, your hair spilling around your shoulders, and a mischievous smile playing on your lips. He loomed over you, his muscular frame casting a shadow on your body, and you felt a tingle of anticipation run down your spine.

"You look so damn sexy right now," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. His hands travel up your thighs, pushing your dress higher, revealing your skin. Your breath quickened as you felt his calloused fingers brush against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You were soaked already, your pussy throbbing in anticipation of what was to come.

"I don’t think I can wait much longer." he growled, his eyes darkened with lust. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. Your tongues danced, tasting the remnants of the liquor consumed earlier in the evening, but the flavors only added to the raw passion of the moment. Hugh's kiss was demanding, possessive, and it sent shivers through your body.

Breaking the kiss, Hugh trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking and biting gently, leaving a trail of wet marks on your delicate skin. You arched your back, offering yourself to him, your hands threading through his dark brown hair, pulling him closer. You wanted to feel his mouth everywhere, to experience the pleasure he could give you.

He worshiped your body with his lips and tongue, kissing and sucking on all of your sensitive spots. His hands cupped your breasts, kneading them gently through the fabric of your dress. You moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders, urging him on. 

"Please, Hugh," you whispered, your voice hoarse with need. "I want more."

Hugh chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. 

"More, huh? I think we can make that happen." He sat up, his eyes gleaming with mischief. With swift movements, he quite literally ripped your dress open, the fabric ripping easily, exposing your lace bra and the swell of your breasts. You gasped and moaned, a mix of surprise and pleasure rushing through you.

"You like that, don't you, baby girl?" he purred, his fingers teasing the lace covering your nipples. "You love seeing me take control over you, don’t you?" You nodded, your eyes half-closed, your body on fire. You loved the way Hugh was taking charge.

Hugh unhooked your bra, revealing your full, heavy breasts. He bent down, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. You cried out, your back arching off the couch as pleasure spiked through you. His hands roamed your body, squeezing and caressing your curves, driving you wild.

"You're so beautiful, y/n," he murmured between kisses. "So responsive. I love watching you fall apart for me." His words only fueled your desire further, causing you to buck your hips, seeking more contact.

Hugh's hands found the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them down your thighs, his touch deliberate and teasing. You lifted your hips, helping him remove the last barrier between the both of you. You were completely exposed now, your pussy dripping with your arousal. Hugh's eyes darkened even more as he took in the sight of your wetness dripping onto his couch. If you weren’t so turned on you would’ve been slightly embarrassed of what you were doing to his couch.

He positioned himself between your thighs, his hard cock straining against his jeans. You reached for the belt on his jeans, wanting to touch and stroke him, but he caught your hands, pinning them above your head. "Not yet, sweet girl. I want to drive you crazy first."

With that, he lowered his head down your body, trailing kisses along the way until his head was aligned with your core, he pressed kisses along your thighs. He blew gently against your clit, making you shiver. Teasingly close to your pussy but never quite touching it. You squirmed, your body taut with anticipation. 

"Please, Hugh, I need you," you begged.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally granted your wish. His tongue flicked out, tasting your sweetness, and then he dove in, lapping at your juices, his tongue swirling around your clit. You cried out, your hips bucking against his face. He held your thighs firmly, keeping you in place as he devoured your pussy, his tongue fucking you relentlessly.

"You gonna cum for me, y/n?," he growled against your pussy, his words felt vibrations against you. As though it snuck up on you, your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing over you as you cried out his name. Your body trembled and shook,your juices flowing freely as Hugh continued to lick and suck through your climax. You had never had anyone work you so expertly on the first try.

As your tremors subsided, Hugh lifted his head, his hazel eyes glittering with satisfaction. 

"You're so fucking beautiful when you cum," he said, his voice rough. You let out a light laugh while out of breath.

But Hugh wasn't done with you yet. He stood up, quickly shedding his clothes, revealing his hard, thick cock. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, your pussy clenching with renewed desire. He was older, but his body was a work of art—muscular and sculpted.

"Now it's my turn to taste you," you said as he sat on the couch and you got yourself off the couch moving to your knees so that you were facing his cock. You took it in your hands feeling the weight and girth. You leaned forward, your eyes locking with his hazel ones as you took the head of his cock into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum, and then you take him deeper, inch by inch, until you feel him at the back of your making you slightly gag until he pulls you back by your hair all while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

You sucked and bobbed your head, your lips sliding up and down his shaft, your hands pumping the base in sync with your mouth. Hugh's breath grew ragged, his hips thrusting slightly. You looked up at him, loving the sight of his pleasure, you increased your pace, wanting to give him the same mind blowing pleasure he had given you.

“Holy fuck, y/n, if you keep going like that I’m gonna cum in that pretty mouth of yours." he groaned, his hands tightening in your hair. His words only spur you on and encourage you to suck harder, your mouth slick around him, Hugh's hips bucked as he exploded in the back of your throat with a loud groan. You swallowed, your eyes had never left his but you had tears running down your flush cheeks from taking him so deep. Your eyes never left him as you sucked him dry.

As you had both caught your breath, Hugh pulled you up, kissing you deeply. "That was fucking incredible," he whispered against your lips. You smiled, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction. This night had not gone as you expected it to and you were nervous about what this meant. Now coming to the realization of what trouble this could bring as he was basically your coworker now.